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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23152111">Playing With Fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilhoney/pseuds/lilhoney'>lilhoney</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Addiction, Adultery, Age Difference, Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Anxiety, BL, Begging, Biting, Brat, Cheating, Consensual Sex, Crime, Cuddling, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Degradation, Desk Sex, Dom and Sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Drama, Dubious Morality, Enemies to Lovers, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fingering, Fluff, Forbidden Fruit, Foreplay, Gay, Hair-pulling, Heartbreak, Homewrecking, Horror, Humiliation, Incest, Insecurity, Interns &amp; Internships, LGBT, Lolita, Loneliness, Lube, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Murder, Mutual Pining, Mystery, NSFW, No Lube, Not Beta Read, Older Man/Younger Man, Pining, Psychological Horror, Romance, Rough Sex, Science Fiction, Shower Sex, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Slut-Shaming, Smut, Sociopathy, Spooning, Trauma, Tsundere, Underage Sex, Unreliable Narrator, Vanilla, Wall Sex, Workplace Romance, Yaoi, affair, brat tamer, lgbt characters of color, non consensual sex, sexual fantasies, tol and smol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:07:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>99,954</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23152111</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilhoney/pseuds/lilhoney</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson Peters had it all. Good looks, some fair smarts, and a promising career. Everything in his life was going to plan. He was going to marry his fiancée, build a perfect house, raise his perfect family, and then live happily ever after.<br/>But then things went awry when he met Andreas Adair, the son of one of the richest men alive- Jackson’s boss. Andreas was everything all at once. Cunning but charming, alluring but dangerous.<br/>Jackson had everything.<br/>Until he wanted Andreas.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>M/M - Relationship, OMC/OMC, OMC/OMF, OMF/OMF, Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Male Character/Original Female Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>196</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I literally don’t know how this platform works and I’m figuring it out as I go so please be patient with me!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I used to believe that the concept of fate was just something people made up to make themselves feel better about everything bad that’s ever happened in their lives. As if the belief that your life is only a predetermined turn of events and the assumption that things will get better can simply justify every bad decision you’ve made and every terrible circumstance you found yourself in. Every bar fight. Every one night stand. Every toxic person you’ve ever dedicated time to.<br/>I used to believe that.<br/>Until I became one of these people.<br/>It is now, as I am sitting under the bright lights of the state penitentiary, nearly rocking back and forth in the creaky metal seat of a visitation center, that I want to make myself believe that Andreas Adair was meant to ruin my life. That none of my actions could’ve avoided my twenty year sentence in this hellhole or the plummet of my scientific career. Like this was all inevitable. Like he was inevitable. And in a way, perhaps he was.<br/>When I met Andreas, it had been two months since my fiancée, Jenn, and our daughter, Arabella, had moved to Seattle for my new job in the Biochemical department at the Abernathy Institute of Technology and Scientific Advancements. I was living in a lavish penthouse apartment close to the lab, I had a loving family, and my career was swiftly taking off after I graduated at the top of my class at Johns Hopkins University a few years prior. I was planning on getting married to Jenn and finally buying a house the next year. I was content with where my life was. I was living well, wasn’t I? Didn’t I have everything I ever wanted?<br/>I ask myself that before I fall asleep in my bunk every night. Everything was good. And it would’ve stayed that way had I never met Andreas Adair.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Andreas Adair</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters meets the infamous Andreas Adair on a particularly fateful day.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On that morning in August, the laboratories' director, Mr. Knightley, had stopped me in the hall to inform me about the new interns that would be touring the facility that day. He was a stout man with graying hair, a habit of referring to people as their last names like he was a football coach, and a rather patient spirit, which I admired him for. I was already tapping my fingers against the side of my coffee, hoping he wouldn't notice how little sleep I got the night before. The way my curly black hair stuck up every which way didn't make matters any better. <br/><br/>"Now, remember," Mr. Knightley's southern drawl started to become evident as he went on, a result of stress. "As you know, our facility is one of the most revered in the country, and a place where many new, fresh minds are welcome, however, be careful with these interns. Most of these youngins, they... well...”</p>
<p>"Haven't worked a day in their lives?" I grinned, desperately trying to smooth down my hair with my right, less dominant hand. I had enough going on that morning, what with waking up late and forgetting my keys in the apartment. I didn't need a bunch of rich teenagers and snobby twenty-something year olds roasting me over my bed head.<br/>Mr. Knightley let out a hearty bark of a laugh. "Yes, well, that's one way to phrase it." I allowed myself a little chuckle, too, as we walked side by side towards my department so I could check in on the projects. "But I am serious, Peters." His usually lighthearted tone suddenly turned much more grave than I was prepared for. "This year's interns include the son of Augustus Adair himself. He may only be a teenager, but be sure to treat him respectably. If Mr. Adair finds one hair harmed on his son, he'll pull all of our funding."<br/>I felt goosebumps crawl up my arms. </p>
<p>Augustus Adair was the director of Abernathy and many other laboratories like it across North America. There were rumors swirling around last year that he was involved in a hitman agency and a worldwide smuggling ring. With a wave of his hand, though, he dismissed all of it and everyone who brought it up in the first place never mentioned it again. Hell, I didn't even realize he had a son.<br/>I was sure he was a pompous prick, just like his father, who threatened to pull the funding of any project if it didn't directly benefit him in return. With that type of wealth and authority, the kid probably hasn't even had to get up to get a glass of water his entire life.<br/>"I won't let you down, sir." I nodded at Knightley, who gave me a passing clasp on the shoulder in response.<br/>"You best not, Peters. You best not."</p>
<p>"Welcome to the Abernathy Institute of Technology and Scientific Advancements, everyone!"<br/>I gestured grandly to the lobby, which had marble walls and floors that echoed my voice like a loudspeaker. The young audience in expensive attire in front of me vaguely looked about at the tall windows, central spiral staircase, and chic interior design. Most of them probably lived in houses that already looked like. I couldn't help but compare my first reaction to theirs. When I first walked in, I stared at the high skylights and lavish decor for so long that Mr. Knightley had to pull me away.<em> Keep it together, Jack,</em> I reminded myself. <em>You only need to show them the basics and that is all.</em> The sooner you get over how bougie these kids' lives are in comparison to yours, the better. But even still. Just looking at the blonde girl in front's designer sunglasses reminded me of how much student loan debt I had finally finished paying off last year. "My name is Jackson Peters, but you can call me Mr. Peters. I'll be the one guiding you around the facilities today, so make sure you guys pay attention." I paused for dramatic effect. "Because one day you might find yourself in my position, giving a tour to a bunch of people who are younger and cooler than you and also don't care about anything you have to say."<br/>A few scattered chuckles here and there kept me going. "Alright, now, if you will follow me, I will be leading you to the biochemical department, where I work."<br/><br/>We walked down to the end of the main hall to the commons, then to the left, where we took a narrower staircase than the main lobby's, which led us down a white, sterilized hall that I recognized and knew would have us walking for at least three minutes, tops. "So," I felt myself getting uncomfortable with the sound of interns whispering behind me and multiple sets of footsteps echoing off the walls. It felt wrong, almost. Creepy. My palms started to sweat. "Do you guys have any questions to start?" I turned my head to look behind me to see if anyone wanted to ask something. But nothing. They all just stared at me with their shiny big eyes as we continued to walk. "Okay, great." I managed. Oh, why did it have to be me, the man who makes zero social interaction outside of the house, ever?</p>
<p>As we approached the glass doors to my department, I took a deep breath and tried to relax, fighting the urge to mess with my hair even more. Six more hours, Jack. Six more hours and then you can leave and pick up Arabella from school and snuggle with Jenn while we watch the nightly news. This inevitable reward kept me sane. It's not that I had a problem with people who were young and rich. I just hated being around them. They made me feel almost inadequate. This, along with the fact that I hate crowds, will help you understand why a mass of at least fifty privileged teenagers and millennials made me break out in sweat and want to go home. But it was fine. I only had five hours and fifty nine minutes left to go.<br/>I led the interns up a flight of stairs and into the spectator box, where they could watch the exposed parts of the lab operate from above. The box was long and dimly lit, with one wall being the glass which most of the interns crowded around to take pictures of and discuss the work of my colleagues below. With the attention taken away from me, I stood in the back, letting the back of my head rest against the cool metal behind me. I put my hands in my pockets and listened to the young observers on the other side of the room.</p>
<p>"Do you see that-?"</p>
<p>"Isn't that Ashley Nakamura?"</p>
<p>"Whoa, that looks cool-"</p>
<p>"-carbon disulfide, isn't it?"</p>
<p>I missed having a young, curious mind sometimes. Now I just seemed so dead and inactive. My life became mundane after getting engaged with Jenn and settling into a stable job. It's a part of getting old, I guess. But a little spontaneity or newness wouldn't have hurt.<br/>I gazed about the room to see if anyone had any questions, or to check if we were ready to head to the next part of the facility, when I noticed something strange. <br/>Not something.</p>
<p>Someone.</p>
<p>There was a young man leaning against the back wall while he texted on his phone. He wasn't exquisitely dressed like the others. He wore normal, run-of-the-mill tortoise shell glasses, an olive bomber jacket, and brown boots with laces, which weren't tied on either foot. His light tan cheekbones and jawline were prominent, but not too much so, and his eyes, which were occasionally obscured with a lock of dark brown hair, were deep and focused. He wasn't stunning enough to catch everyone's attention, but he was good looking enough to keep it if he did. That wasn't the most noticeable thing about him, though. His general demeanor was. He stood with a sense of confidence, almost cockiness. As if to say, "I don't need this tour, old man. I can manage just fine on my own."<br/>But he still seemed so normal. In comparison to all these other interns, with their hair extensions and Gucci belts, he looked like he was the most down-to-earth. Like-minded individuals are bound to get along, right?</p>
<p>Not right.</p>
<p>I shouldn't have thought that at all.</p>
<p>I found myself approaching him, like I couldn't help it. When I was maybe another step or two away, he looked up and placed his phone in his back pocket. "You don't wanna look at the lab a little bit?" I gestures towards the horde. "Everyone seems to think it's pretty cool."<br/>He shrugged a little, offering me a friendly grin. "No thanks, I've, uh, seen it a billion times already. And I might not even be working in this department, so."<br/>"Oh, then what department?"<br/>The kid shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and wrinkled his nose. I found that almost endearing. Jenn almost does the same thing when she's thinking. "I don't know. But I don’t think biochemical stuff is really my thing."<br/>"Well," I leaned against the back wall, close enough to still hold a conversation with him but far enough so that he doesn't feel completely uncomfortable. "I didn't think it was, either, until my senior year of high school. But you have time to decide, right? You're, what, a sophomore in high school?"<br/>He started to laugh lightly.<br/>Oh, god, what did I do? Was that stupid of me to say? Did I just make a fool of myself in front of him already?<br/>"Sorry, I just-" He cleared his throat and stood up straight. "I graduated high school when I was twelve."<br/>Oh.<br/>"Wow," was all I said because that's all I could get out. Did he skip six grades? "That's actually pretty nice, right?”<br/>The kid grimaced and arched a brow that had to have been precisely plucked. "I guess? I suppose I got bored with all that spare time, though. That’s the whole reason I’m here, really."<br/>"You-" I sputtered. This was a prestigious internship, one that many people from all over the globe fought for every year. Inevitably, it was mostly only the richly educated ones that got it. But even so. "You applied as an intern here because you got <em>bored</em>?"<br/>"Yes." He said it as if it was no big deal.<br/>I nodded, still in slight disbelief, and wondering if any person in the room actually cared about the program they were applying to.<br/>"But that doesn't mean I'm gonna take it any less seriously, Mr. Peters."<br/>I shuddered upon hearing what he just called me. It made me feel even older than I was. "I'd prefer if you'd just call me Jackson. Mr. Peters sounded a lot better when I said it the first time."<br/>We both shared a polite chuckle.<br/>"I'm afraid I can't call you by your first name. My father taught me that I should treat my authorities with respect."<br/>"Well, isn't it disrespectful to ignore a direct request, young sir?"<br/>He blinked at me behind his tortoise shell glasses for a good minute before breaking out into a reluctant smile. It was the type of smile that made anyone who saw it want to smile too. "Well, I suppose it is, isn't it, Mr. Peters?"<br/>I found myself grinning. “I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”</p>
<p>The rest of the tour went without a hitch. Whenever I looked at the bomber jacket guy, though, he seemed to always be on his phone. This made me feel a little better, as if I was the one who only one who reached out and connected with him. By the time the tour was over, my workday practically was, too. Mr. Knightley clapped me on the back and congratulated me for getting through it as we walked out of the building and to our respective cars.<br/>"I don't suppose the Adair kid gave you any trouble, did he, Peters?"<br/>I unlocked my old Chevy and placed my belongings in the back. "No, I didn't even really meet him. I only talked to one intern, and he seemed genuinely nice."<br/>"Good." Mr. Knightley started getting into his sleek new sports coupe. "Hopefully this year's interns are as promising as their applications say they are. Have a good night, Peters."<br/>I gave him a small wave as he backed out of his space and headed on his way. I had time to kill before I had to pick up Arabella. I rested my head against my steering wheel and took a deep breath. I couldn't stop thinking about bomber jacket guy. It wasn't obsessive, really, just curious. Who was he? What has he been doing in the three years since he graduated high school? Is he rich like everyone else or just genuinely qualified? How does someone have such nice hair?<br/>It was questions like these that bothered me even after I picked up my daughter. I knew I had to talk to him. Be a guide for him at the facility and be like a coach to help him get higher in his career. Who knows, he could be my gateway to slang and trends of today.</p>
<p>"Daddy, can we get McDonald's?" Arabella whined in the front seat.<br/>"We're cooking at home, sweetheart." I calmly replied. This was a daily ritual for us now. Arabella was six now, so she was starting to really get a personality and attitude of her own now. And I wasn't fully prepared for it.<br/>"But what are we cooking at home?"<br/>"You're gonna have to ask your mom when we get there."<br/>Arabella was cute, but that didn't mean I couldn't say no to her. A stranger would probably look at her big, round hazel eyes and give in to her demands, but as someone who's known her for all six years of her life, I know that she shouldn't be indulged unless it's her birthday (which was already last week), her grandma's monthly visit (on Jenn's side, not mine), or Christmas. Don't get me started on her demands for Christmas. How do you explain to your six-year-old kid that you can't give them the one thing they want for Christmas because your home isn't equipped to deal with unicorns (and plus they don't exist)?<br/>I heard my phone start buzzing in the cup holder next to me. "Ari, could you see who that is for me?"<br/>I heard a slight rustle and clack as she leaned over and picked up my phone with her tiny hands.<br/>"It's mom, should I answer it?"<br/>"Go ahead. And put it on speaker."<br/>She took a second, but she eventually figured out where that button was.<br/>"Hey, hon." I lowered my head a bit to get closer to the mic. "We're almost home, we're just passing Pete's Bar."<br/>"Okay." Jenn's clear and bright voice always made me feel more secure. I loved that I got to hear it everyday. "I'll be home in an hour or so, just need to finish up this meeting."<br/>"Hi, mom!" Ari screamed at my phone.<br/>"Hi, sweetie!" I could hear her smile. "Take care of your dad for me, okay? I'll be home soon!"<br/>“Okay!” Ari said before promptly hanging up.<br/>“Wha- Arabella, what if I wanted to say something else to your mom?”<br/>She shrugged and put my phone back in its former spot. “Then she’ll have to tell you when we get home.”<br/>Well, what could I say, she was blunt. Just like her mother.</p>
<p>“Hey, honey. I’m sorry the meeting ran so late.” Jenn kissed me on the cheek as she started hurrying past me to get changed in our bedroom.<br/>“You better be!” Arabella hopped down the stairs and plopped herself down in her usual spot at the dining table wearing her purple fairy costume. It was what she slept in because she refused to wear anything else but her costumes when she didn’t have to wear her school uniform.<br/>“Don’t worry about it, hon. You’d be patient for me if I had to stay after work, too.” I set down plates of spaghetti and meatballs for us.<br/>Jenn emerged from our bedroom, in the midst of tying her thick brown hair into a ponytail. When she reached up to do that, she showed off her arms, and I think that was her most attractive feature. She always said they were too muscular and bulky, but I thought they were just fine. Strong women were my weakness.<br/>Her engagement ring still shone prominently on her left hand. “God, I’m starving,” Jenn said as she grabbed the remote to turn on the nightly news and then tell Arabella, who was starting to use her noodles as mini jump ropes, to stop playing with her food.<br/>Looking at my future wife and our daughter used to make me so happy. I think by then the euphoric sense had died down, but I was still excited to have a family. In hindsight, I should’ve held them closer. I should’ve embraced Jenn’s nagging and Ari’s odd habits more. Because now I’m never seeing either one of them again.</p>
<p>The next few days at work went somewhat smoothly. Some of the interns I gave a tour to started showing up more frequently and actually observing the work we do. I never saw bomber jacket kid until later, though. It had been maybe a week since I first talked to him when he came back. I was saying my goodbyes to my coworkers in the biochem department and passing by the reception area on my floor when I caught sight of Mr. Knightley talking vivaciously with a familiar looking teenager and a woman I didn’t know.<br/>“Ah! Peters! Come over here and meet our wonderful new intern!” Mr. Knightley smiles broadly and waved me over to join their conversation. At that point, I just wanted to go home, but I slapped on a smile and headed their way. Once I was close enough, he clapped me on the shoulder and gestured towards the young man next to him. “This is Mr. Adair’s son, Andreas.”<br/>“Actually, Mr. Knightley, we’ve already met.”<br/>Wait. There was no way, none at all that Andreas Adair was...<br/>His voice was much more dignified and composed than it was when I first heard it, but when I took a closer look at him, there was no doubt. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, but he looked so familiar. His smooth light tan skin, pretentiously disheveled brown hair, and confident posture should’ve given it away immediately.<br/>“You’re the intern I talked to last Tuesday in the spectator box.”<br/>He smirked, and I already started to realize how different he was now than before. More cocky. More alluring. More like his father. “Correct. I’m looking forward to working with you, Mr. Peters.”<br/>“Wait- Working with-?” I pointed at Andreas, then at Mr. Knightley. “He’s-?”<br/>The director nodded fiercely. “Yes, Peters, from now on, Mr. Adair will be joining you in the biochemical department as an assistant.”<br/>Of course.<br/>Andreas held out a hand for me to shake. “I hope we can work well together, Mr. Peters.”</p>
<p>The way he said my name made me shiver. I didn’t trust this Andreas. I trusted the one who was leaning against the dimly lit back wall last week and laughed with me. But regardless, I shook his hand, unknowing of his underlying ill intentions.</p>
<p>“To you as well, Mr. Adair.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>you guys signed up for a slow burn, I’ll give you a SLOW burn</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Jackson Peters doesn’t like Andreas Adair</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Andreas Adair starts to really push Jackson Peters’ buttons, but not for any actual reason other than it’s fun.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The past few days at work had been fine. I didn't talk much to Andreas- no, Mr. Adair- as long as he didn't initiate conversation first. At first, I had this fantasy that I would be the one helping him adjust to the new work environment and doing stuff like calling him "rookie." He was already leaning against the water cooler and talking to my coworkers about the stocks like it's nothing. Hell, even I barely even knew what stocks were. Even still, I was jealous. Jealous of how easily he got along with other people. Jealous of how much more intelligent and respected he was in my workplace than he was. Jealous of how easy it was for someone who was pretty and rich to get on everyone's good side. I'd been at Abernathy for nearly two months now, and I still struggled to get even a nod from a higher-up. All Andreas had to do was smile and nobody thought he could do wrong.</p><p>I was right. He was just like his father, strolling around and charming everyone, like he owned the place. What a pompous prick. The kid I met in the spectator box wouldn't have acted like this. But this wasn't the kid I met in the spectator box. This kid was Andreas Alexander Adair: smooth talker, natural charmer, and son of Augustus Adair. This kid wasn't below me or even an equal. He was above me in every way. And it wasn't fair, but I hated him for it.</p><p>I had two days left until the weekend, and since I was off, Jenn, Arabella, and I were planning on spending the weekend at her late uncle's lakeside cabin. It was this quaint little two-bedroom home with a dock that reached out to the adjacent river and a treehouse in the fenced backyard that Ari absolutely adored. After this week, I thought I needed some time in seclusion with the people I loved most. Maybe after my little vacation, I'd be confident enough to reach Andreas' level of cocky bastard.</p><p>I was sitting in my office when I met Andreas for the third time. It was a small, sort of cramped room that probably used to be a storage closet, but Mr. Knightley decided that I needed an office as the co-head of the biochemical department, and he made one. I sat at my desk and filed through a few reports from the lab. It felt like a weight was pressing down on my shoulders. It was the same weight I felt when I realized that a leadership position here would mean less time in the actual lab and more time managing it. I was only thirty-five and I felt like my life was running ahead of me. I didn't have time for fun or parties when I was in high school or college, and now I'd never get the chance. I sighed and shook my head as I unloaded a stack of papers into one of the drawers next to me. I knew that there was no point in wishful thinking. What was done was done. In the midst of me thinking about my regrets, I heard a knock on my office door.</p><p>"It's open," I called out, too lazy to get up.</p><p>"Good morning, Mr. Peters." The smooth, rich sound of his voice alone was enough to make me feel belittled.</p><p>"What do you want?" I said, not looking up. I knew I was being too aggressive, but my jealousy of him was like an ugly monster that manifested by invading my thoughts and actions until it was inescapable. At the time, thinking of Andreas at all only made me feel that way, and I wasn't proud of it. I mean, come on. Being envious of a sixteen year old was probably not on the top ten list of things I thought I'd be doing as an adult.</p><p>"Whoa." He held his hands up in surrender, a slightly perplexed expression on his face. At least it wasn't a damn smirk. "No need to be hostile, Mr. Peters. I'm just delivering some reports." As he said this, he tossed a file on the edge of my desk as he walked closer to me. A nonchalant, careless gesture. I almost would've been angry with that small, simple thing had it not been for the ounce of reason I still had left within my brain. <em>Relax, Jack. He didn't mean anything by it.</em></p><p>"Thank you." I said curtly as I looked back down at my work.</p><p>Then I heard a shift and he was suddenly just sitting on the edge of my desk. "You know I'm no threat to you, right, Mr. Peters?"</p><p>I set down my pen with a sigh and leaned back, finally, finally looking at him. He was wearing his glasses again. He wore a fitted blue sweater under his lab coat and black jeans that hugged his calves just right to show that he was muscular, but still slim. He was positioned so that his crossed legs faced the wall and he had to turn his head at least ninety degrees to see me. I noticed that his hair was slightly shorter so that it didn't fall in his eyes as often. "As often" were the key words there.</p><p>"I told you not to call me Mr. Peters." I tried my best to muster a composed and dignified tone, but it sounded more constipated than anything.</p><p>Andreas raised a perfectly shaped brow and slowly, deliberately uncrossed his legs. "You didn't seem to mind so much in the spectator box."</p><p>"Well, I'm surprised you even remember that."</p><p>He tilted his head at me. I almost wanted to yell at him not to do that. Every gesture, every small movement and lilt of his voice made me feel some type of way. It stirred something in me that I didn't like, something I wasn't comfortable with. "Why would you say that?"</p><p>He didn't even say it in an accusatory way, just in a way that was genuinely confused. Fuck, why did he have to be so <em>nice</em>?</p><p>"I-" I couldn't manage to even make anything up. How was I supposed to tell him how I felt about him being like this? Being so natural, so charming, and everything else I wasn't?</p><p>"You think I'm acting differently, don't you?"</p><p>I opened my mouth, then closed it. Andreas got the message. "Is that why you've been avoiding me, too?"</p><p>"I haven't been avoiding you." I tried to say in defense.</p><p>"Cut the crap. Don't think I haven't noticed."</p><p>Andreas leaned forward, ever so slightly. "Do you really want to know why I played nice in that spectator box?"</p><p>That's not what I expected at all. He was playing nice? But he felt so real. Here, he felt superficial. I didn't want it to be true. I didn't want this version of him to be the one I had to deal with for the next nine months. But it was him. The one sitting before me, his face only inches from mine, was the real Andreas Adair.</p><p>
  <em>God, why did he have to be even more perfect up close?</em>
</p><p>"I didn't know who you were or what your position was. But now," He leaned even closer. His face being devoid of emotion didn't ease me at all. "I know exactly who you are. I know that you're not a threat to me in the slightest. In fact, no one here is. I'm sitting on your desk right now because you can't do anything about it."</p><p>"Andreas," I gathered all my composure and grit my teeth so that I didn't yell at this kid. I felt fire igniting in my chest and down to my knuckles, desperately wanting release. "If you're not here for anything else, I suggest you leave."</p><p>He slowly slid himself off my desk with a little shrug. "Okay, Mr. Peters. But just for future reference..."</p><p>Andreas stopped at the door and slid his hand down the side of the door frame. "You will only refer to me as Mr. Adair. A first name basis is far too improper for the workplace, don't you think?"</p><p>And just as fast as he appeared, he left. If I thought I hated him before, I hated him even more, even deeper now.</p><p> </p><p>"You will not believe the day I had." Jenn and I both said as we sat down in our seats for dinner. We exchanged looks. Always in sync, the two of us. She laughed.</p><p>"Tell me about your day first, hon."</p><p>"Ah." I waved my hand. "You go ahead. Mine's not that important."</p><p>Jenn set down her fork with a clink and took a deep breath, like she did when she told me she was pregnant with Ari. I knew for a fact, though, that this couldn't be the case this time. Finally, the words burst out of her like she couldn't hold them in any longer.</p><p>"Penny wants me to head over to the Sacramento office and run things as an official manager there. She says I have all the credentials and that soon I could be a regional manager if I do well there!"</p><p>I kissed her on the cheek. "That's great, hon. How long are you gonna stay, though?"</p><p>Jenn's face immediately fell. "Oh. Well, um, they said I could be there for up to six months."</p><p>"Six months?" Arabella exclaimed from her place at the table across from us.</p><p>"I know, sweetie, it's just-" Jenn chewed on her lip. "I know it's long. And I know it's far, It's just-"</p><p>She fell silent. I knew that she felt guilty about wanting to take this job. This is exactly what happened when I was offered one at Abernathy, too. I had to support her, no matter what, just like she had supported me. I rested my hand on hers and let my thumb graze across the ruby engagement ring I got her. "Take the job. Ari and I will manage just fine here."</p><p>Jenn's eyes flooded with relief. "Jackson, you don't have to that. And besides, I've been thinking... you're so busy with work that maybe I could just take Ari with me?"</p><p>I opened my mouth to protest, but Jenn silenced me with a slim finger to my lips. "Look. My mom lives in the area. Ari could get homeschooled by her. And besides, she always complains about not seeing her grandmother that much anyways."</p><p>"But..."</p><p>But what about me?</p><p>"How does a six month stay with grandmama sound, sweetie?" Jenn aimed her soft voice at our daughter, who was practically already bouncing up and down.</p><p>"Yes! Yes yes yes yes!" Ari hopped out of her seat and started running upstairs. "I gotta get all my dresses so I can show them to grandmama!"</p><p>We watched her bound up to her room with wearied smiles. Once I heard the door close behind her, I turned to Jenn. "When do you guys have to leave?"</p><p>She wrinkled her nose in thought for a moment, then her face relaxed again. "Tomorrow afternoon. That's when the flight is, I think."</p><p>"So... no cabin this weekend?"</p><p>She patted my hair affectionately. "No cabin. But hey, maybe we can arrange something so that we can meet in the middle?"</p><p>I rested my head on her shoulder, taking in her fresh, flowery scent. "Yeah. That'd be great."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>am currently in quarantine so expect constant updates</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Andreas Adair smooths things over</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Andreas Adair and Jackson Peters find themselves stuck in an elevator. Things get tense.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>"You sure you'll be okay on your own for a few months, hon?" Jenn asked as she took my hand. We were in my car at the airport drop-off, with maybe thirty minutes left to spare before Jenn and Ari's flight to Sacramento took off.</p><p>I smiled at her. "Of course. Now get out of here before you get left behind."</p><p>Jenn chuckled and gave me one last peck on the lips. "See you later! I'll text you when we land, okay? Arabella, say bye to your father."</p><p>My little girl leaned forward from the back seat and hugged my neck tightly, nuzzling her little head into mine.</p><p>"Bye, dad!"</p><p>I squeezed her back. "Have fun, Ari. Tell your grandmama I said hi, alright?"</p><p>She nodded, then finally let go when Jenn started dragging her away. As they neared the sliding doors with their bags, my family gave me one last little wave before heading inside. I may have shed a tear or two before I pulled out of the drop-off lane. I hadn't lived alone in years. I usually either had my older sister, or a roommate, or Jenn and Ari waiting for me when I got home. I couldn't bear the idea of coming home to no one, and a terrible thought crossed my mind.</p><p>As I passed multiple couples hand-in-hand on sidewalks or couples with baby carriages, I considered what it'd be like to come home to someone else. Not simply to cheat on Jenn, but to not have picked her in the first place. To have explored my options more before choosing her. She was the third girl I ever dated. Was I settling? Did I think that just because things were good between us that we were meant to be married for the rest of our lives? I thought that maybe I was being too hasty. But then, how could I? I felt immense guilt wash over me. Jenn and Arabella were my life. How could I even imagine leaving them or never allowing them into my life?</p><p>When I got back to the apartment that evening, it felt terribly cold. Ari wasn't playing with her dolls in her room upstairs. Jenn wasn't humming a showtune as she baked cookies. Their presences in our home were bright and full of life, and now, without them, it felt so lonely. I stepped inside and immediately almost stepped on one of Ari's Barbie dolls. I sighed and picked it up, examining it. Jenn and I got it for Arabella's sixth birthday last year. She wouldn't let it go for weeks. And now here it was, on the floor. I picked up all of the things Ari left downstairs and neatly put them up in her room. For when they came back. Plus, Jenn would've harped on me forever if she found out that I didn't spend any time cleaning up. By the time everything was in order, Jenn called me.</p><p>"Hey, hon." I greeted. It almost felt wrong to do that so cheerfully after I almost convinced myself that our relationship shouldn't have ever happened.</p><p>"Hey!" She sounded a little out of breath, and in the background I heard people bustling around and the roll of suitcases. "The flight's been delayed, so me and Ari are still waiting at the gate."</p><p>"Well, thanks for checking in."</p><p>"No problem. Have you eaten yet?"</p><p>"Yeah," I lied. "I picked up some McDonald's on the way home."</p><p>I heard her scoff. "Don't tell me you're gonna eat junk food the entire time I'm gone, Jackson."</p><p>"Try and stop me." I joked.</p><p>She laughed a little, the slight tension melting off her voice. "Okay, point taken. Anyways, we're about to board. Ari, anything you wanna say to your father before we go?"</p><p>I heard a distant "nope."</p><p>"Okay, bye, hon. Take care of yourself, okay?"</p><p>"I will."</p><p> </p><p>I didn't take care of myself. I actually did go out and got some McDonald's for dinner, then fell asleep in front of the TV while watching the nightly news. When I got up, I was extremely late. I was supposed to be in at seven, but it was already eight. "Fuck," I muttered as I threw on my clothes, grabbed my things, and stuffed a breath mint in my mouth. I bolted out of the door, barely making sure to lock it, and pushed the speed limit as I drove there.</p><p>I ran up the stairs to the building, yelled a passing "good morning" to Della the receptionist, and stepped into the empty elevator. I didn't have time for stairs that day. I hastily pressed the button for the second floor and waited for the doors to close as I tried to catch my breath. It was one thing to go to the gym four days a week and work out after dinner, but it was another to run to work on nothing but a Big Mac and five hours of horrible sleep.</p><p>"Hold the door!"</p><p>I tensed upon hearing his voice. No. No no no no no. Not him. <em>Anybody</em> but him. I desperately pressed the "close doors" button repeatedly, but just as they almost made contact, a slim, light tan hand slipped through and made the doors part once again.</p><p>"Phew," Andreas swept his hair back with one hand and stepped in beside me. "That was a close one."</p><p>I plastered on a friendly face. "Yeah, it was."</p><p>Andreas pressed the button for the second floor, then hummed a showtune as he checked the messages on his phone. As if nothing happened between us. As if he didn’t sit on my desk the other day and tell me that I couldn’t do anything about it and like I wasn’t angry at him about everything.</p><p>Then, suddenly, the elevator staggered and stopped completely. Andreas and I exchanged looks. "Um," I pressed the button to the second floor again. Nothing happened. I pressed the "open doors" button. No dice.</p><p>"Great." I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "Today, of all days..."</p><p>Meanwhile, Andreas was already on the phone with Mr. Knightley. A few excruciatingly long minutes later, he hung up and put his phone in his back pocket. "Knightley says he's calling the maintenance guy. Could take maybe forty minutes until we can get out."</p><p>"Wonderful. That's just great." I started pacing the few feet of width in the cabin space.</p><p>Andreas just watched me with his cold, predatory eyes, like a hawk. "If I may ask, why were you so late, Mr. Peters?" He asked in a taunting, "I'm on time and you're not" type of way.</p><p>I didn't look at him so that he wouldn't tattle on me to his father for glaring at him. "I didn't set an alarm, that's all."</p><p>"So why are you not looking at me?" He leaned against the adjacent wall like we were just having a casual conversation in the break room during lunch.</p><p>I reluctantly turned around and made eye contact with him. He was wearing his signature smirk, of course, as his dark eyes glinted mischievously behind his tortoise shell glasses. "God, Peters, what <em>happened</em> to you?" Andreas crossed his arms across his chest. "Your eye bags are so heavy that I can use them to carry my groceries."</p><p>I scoffed and sat against the wall opposite of him. "As if you even shop for your own groceries."</p><p>Andreas' eyes flared with a hint of anger before he quickly recomposed himself again. "What are you insinuating, Mr. Peters?"</p><p>"You know exactly what I'm insinuating, <em>Mr. Adair</em>." I bit back another retort. I'd already screwed up enough. I was already at risk to lose my job just from this. I wasn't thinking straight, and I knew that I was going too far. But once I started, I couldn't stop. "And do you know what else, Mr. Adair? I think you could be a little less pretentious. No, not a little, I think you could be a <em>lot</em> less pretentious. Also, must you act so charming and nice all the time?"</p><p>A slow grin spread across Andreas' face. "You think I'm charming?"</p><p>My eyes widened and I felt my cheeks start to get warm. "That- That's not- That wasn't-"</p><p>The kid laughed. I noticed that his smile was still as genuine and contagious as it was in the spectator box. "I'm kidding, Peters. You should've seen the look on your face, it was precious."</p><p>I opened my mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again. I just told him he was extremely pretentious and sickeningly charming and nice and this is how he reacts?</p><p>Andreas smirked, making something rise in my chest that I couldn't describe. It was only then that I noticed how his pale blue button-up hugged his torso and complimented his skin tone so nicely. How deep and intense his eyes were if you looked close enough. How smooth and slim his fingers were. I blinked. Snap out of it, Jackson. God, what was wrong with me?</p><p>“And there’s no need to stress out about telling me off, either. I already know that I’m a charming, handsome, and pretentious bastard.”</p><p>“I never said you were handsome.”</p><p>He stared at me for a moment, a silent one, where I could’ve sworn that he read my mind and looked into the darkest depths of my soul. I almost felt violated. Exposed.</p><p>“You’re a terrible liar, Mr. Peters.” He sat down against the wall behind him so that he was eye level with me. “If people could have sex just by looking at someone, you would’ve railed me to death by now.”</p><p>I felt my entire face flush with heat. “I thought you didn’t want to be improper in the workplace.”</p><p>“Oh, my apologies, Mr. Peters, am I making you uncomfortable?” He batted his eyes and tilted his head innocently.</p><p>“Yes, Andr- Mr. Adair. You are.”</p><p>“Well then, what do you want to talk about?”</p><p>“I don’t <em>want</em> to <em>talk. </em>We literally don’t <em>have</em> to talk.”</p><p>Andreas shrugged, unfazed by me, and went back to texting on his phone. Seeing him on his immediately made me want to check mine, but when I checked my pocket, it wasn’t there. Fuck. <em>I must’ve been in such a hurry that I left it in the car.</em> Of course I did. Because apparently nothing was going my way today.</p><p>Why did I have to be stuck in an elevator for another thirty five minutes, give or take, with <em>this</em> little asshole?</p><p>Why does Andreas look so unbearably nice today while I look like a homeless drug addict?</p><p>What if Jenn calls me and thinks I’m cheating on her and breaks up with me over text just because I don’t have my phone?</p><p>Why does a building that prides itself in innovative technology have such a crappy elevator?</p><p>I looked over at the kid, who was happily tapping away on his phone.</p><p>“Why did you even take the elevator today? You always take the stairs like everyone else.”</p><p>He responded promptly without even looking up. “I didn’t feel like using the stairs today,”</p><p>Before I could ask why, he interrupted me.</p><p>“-but don’t ask me why. I think you’ll find the answer to be too <em>raunchy</em>.”</p><p>I looked away in realization of what he meant. My cheeks turned pink once again. “Oh.”</p><p>He glanced up at me briefly. “Yeah. Don’t worry, it’s not serious or anything.”</p><p>
  <em>What the fuck am I supposed to add to that? Also, why did this sixteen year old get more action than I do?</em>
</p><p>“That’s good.” I said awkwardly. I regretted it as soon as it came out. I couldn’t even look at Andreas anymore, I was so embarrassed. Between me losing my temper at him for no apparent reason, him implying that I would <em>rail him to death</em> (which for the record, I would not), and <em>this</em>, I just wanted to carve a hole in the floor and fall down the shaft and die.</p><p>“You don’t have to be so formal about it.” Andreas offered, still texting away. </p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“So...”</p><p>He finally looked up at me. “So. Do you want to talk now?”</p><p>And just because I didn’t have a phone or literally anything else to distract me and because I didn’t want to be stuck in this awkward silence forever, I said sure.</p><p>Andreas slid his phone in his back pocket again, then combed back his smooth hair with his fingers. It had the same effect on me that his smirk did. “Well, why don’t you start the conversation? Since I’m apparently so offensive.”</p><p>“Um.” I wiped the already forming sweat from my palms onto my pants. “I’m not really one for starting conversations.”</p><p>“Wow, I never would’ve guessed.” Andreas said sarcastically in reply. I couldn’t help but grin a little bit at his humor. But only a little bit.</p><p>“So.” He shrugged with one shoulder. “You wouldn’t happen to know any fun games we can play while we’re stuck here, would you?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hello! thank you for all the reads, comments, and kudos, it means a lot to me! i have noticed a few spelling/grammar errors in my last chapters, and i have to apologize! i will come back and fix them whenever i have the chance! sorry for the inconsistent upload schedule as well, school and the virus have been awfully erratic, so please be patient with me! at the very least, i will try to upload at least once a month! </p><p>current upload schedule (i will try my best to follow it!)<br/>- Chapter 5 should be released sometime before or on Saturday, March 28th.<br/>- Chapter 6 should be released sometime before or on Saturday, April 4th.<br/>- Chapter 7 should be released sometime before or on Saturday, April 11th. </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Andreas Adair bonds with Jackson Peters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Andreas Adair and Jackson Peters are still stuck in an elevator. Things are still tense. Just not in the same way as before.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I stared at Andreas, who only stared back with more intensity. Four feet apart, that's how far we were from one another. This perfect boy was sitting across from me, across what felt like an abyss that couldn't be crossed. That shouldn't be. If I even dared to inch closer, who knew what I'd do. Andreas reached up to pluck a strand of away from his eyes, momentarily revealing a sliver of skin above the waist of his jeans. I let myself wonder what it would be like to touch that part of him. Just for a moment. A small one. Because I figured it wasn't cheating on Jenn if I didn't actually do anything. It was just thinking. Considering. And although that in itself was already a terrible thing to do, I couldn't stop myself.</p><p>To answer his question, I shook my head. "You?"</p><p>Andreas tilted his head back and forth slightly, as if gently tossing an idea around in his head. "Well, if you're up for it, we could just play twenty questions."</p><p>"The one where you think of an object and I ask you questions to try and guess what it is?"</p><p>"No, the one where we take turns asking each other questions and I get on your nerves."</p><p>I let myself smile at that. "Okay. But what if I don't wanna answer your questions?"</p><p>The corner of his lips twitched. "Then you owe me a favor."</p><p>What kind of favor? I wanted to ask.</p><p>"Fine." I straightened my legs in front of me and rested my hands on my thighs. "Shoot."</p><p>"Alright, Mr. Peters." He crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees. "I'll go easy on ya. For now.” Then leaning forward ever so slightly, he asked, “What's your favorite pizza topping?"</p><p>I chewed on my lip for a few seconds before answering. "Olives."</p><p>Andreas wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Wait, seriously?"</p><p>I laughed lightly. "It happens when you get old."</p><p>He quizzically looked at me with his dark eyes, then rested his chin on his left knuckle. "There's no way you're <em>that</em> old, Mr. Peters."</p><p>"I'm thirty five, Mr. Adair."</p><p>"Bullshit." He immediately sat up and narrowed his eyes at me as if he'd see my true age engraved on me somewhere if he looked hard enough.</p><p>I didn't know how I felt about him looking at me so much and how his dark, careful gaze swept over me like a beam. The way his eyes paused over every feature.<br/><br/>Suddenly, he said, “Look into my eyes real quick?"</p><p>"Uh,"</p><p>Before I knew it, he'd gotten on his hands and knees and crawled over to where I was, then took my face in one hand and jerked it towards his own, where our noses almost touched.</p><p>God, why did he have to look impeccable, even this close?</p><p>He studied me a moment longer before finally letting go and pulling away to sit on his knees. "I never noticed that your eyes were so green, Mr. Peters."</p><p>"Oh. Well, uh..." I stared at the panel of buttons next to me. I couldn't let him see how furiously I was blushing. Luckily, my complexion was relatively dark, so I thought that maybe he wouldn't notice. "Thanks?"</p><p>"Anytime." Andreas sat next to me, shoulder to shoulder and hugged his knees to his chest. This close, I could breathe him in. The aroma was faint, but he smelled like something rich, earthy, and slightly familiar. But there was also something else I couldn't quite describe. Something that made me want to wrap him up and keep him forever. "Your turn." He singsonged.</p><p>I opened my mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, but nothing came out.</p><p>When you meet someone, you could ask them a million things.</p><p>
  <em>How do you like your eggs in the morning?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If you were to get a tattoo, what would it be of?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What's your type?</em>
</p><p>But when you're offered the opportunity, sometimes you just blank. I briefly thought about my fiancée and my daughter in Sacramento for whatever reason, then got an idea. "If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?"</p><p>I knew my own answer. I would've gone to Chicago. I lived there before I came to Seattle. The air smells cleaner here and I have a better job, but still. Chicago had a better everything. Better food, better nightlife, and most importantly, better pizza. I would've killed for a good deep dish in Seattle.</p><p>Andreas answered my question without hesitation. "Thailand. Phuket. I was born there. I went back a few times as a kid, but..." He picked at something invisible on his grey boat shoes and hesitated. “My father stopped letting me go." </p><p>I rested my head in the metal wall behind me, letting his words sink in. Andreas Adair, who could have everything, couldn't even go back to his hometown. I imagined what it would've been like if someone kept me from going back to Chicago. His face was buried in his knees, so I couldn't see his expression. I wanted to comfort him and tell him that he'd probably go back one day, with or without his dad, or something uplifting and hopeful like that, but all that came out was, "You're Thai?"</p><p>"Half." He lifted his face and rested the back of his head against the wall, too, unfazed. Andreas seemed unfazed by most things. After a quiet, uncharacteristically vulnerable second with him, he reverted back to his charming, cocky self after staring up at the ceiling and blinking for a five seconds.<br/><em>Five seconds was how long it took for him to flip that switch</em>. He squirmed so that he was sitting straight up again and shot me a grin. "So. Enough of that. I didn't mean to ruin the mood."</p><p>I furrowed my brows. "You didn't-"</p><p>"Anyways!" He clapped his hands and rubbed them together, like he was warming himself up. "My turn. What's your favorite food?"</p><p>I decided not to bring up how he transitioned so quickly. He didn't seem like the type of person that would be receptive to that approach. Besides, with my lack of social skills, I would've just made things much worse.</p><p>"Deep dish pizza." I immediately said.</p><p>"I'm more of a New York style man myself."</p><p>It was like Andreas took a wooden stake and stabbed me through the heart.</p><p>"<em>No</em>." I clutched my chest. "How dare you?"</p><p>The teenager next to me only shrugged and smirked like he did nothing wrong. "I'm not sorry, Peters."</p><p>"No, you should be, and I <em>will</em> change your mind one day."</p><p>"I'd like to see you try, Peters."</p><p>I chuckled and shook my head. "Oh, I won't only <em>try</em>, I'll succeed."</p><p>A hint of a more genuine smile started to form on his lips as his eyes met mine. For a single, inexplicable instant, it's like we really connected. I could see it now. It was like I could feel every joyful or painful time in his life. Every high and low, and everything in between. For some reason, he only had to give me one look, and suddenly, I understood him completely. "I'd like that, Jackson." His voice, gentle and melodic, drew me in. I wanted to lean closer to him and just know every part of him. He knew that. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but I could see a certain fire burning in his eyes, too. I wanted him so badly. I wanted to pull him closer by the waist and taste his lips. To breathe in his hair and run my hands under his shirt, up his back. It was a dirty, horrible, and almost unbearable thought. But the more I let it fester in my mind, the more desperate I became and the more I ached to bite his skin and hear him beg. <em>God, I didn't know how much longer I could take it.</em> Just indulging myself in a single, fleeting thought made my pants tighten. I adjusted how I sat so that Andreas wouldn't know. <em>No one could ever know.</em></p><p>It didn't help that he intensely held my gaze for so long. His face was maybe only a foot away from mine.</p><p><em>And in a single, impulsive movement, I closed the gap. His lips were softer and warmer than I could have ever imagined. He was startled at first, making a small, frightened sound. Then, slowly, almost as if against his will, he pressed his hand against the back of my neck and melted into me. His tongue slipped into my mouth. I let my hands wander, let them slip just under the hem of his shirt, let</em> <em>them rest on the copper skin underneath. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t think. I only acted. And that’s just what Andreas did, too. He let his hands comb through my dark curls. A warm, tingling sensation was left on my skin from where he touched me. And it left me wanting more. I wanted to feel this way forever. I started letting my kisses trail down his jaw, then to his neck. But so much of it was covered by his damn collar. Andreas’ breath caught as I unbuttoned the top of his light blue shirt. I saw goosebumps crawl across his skin as I did so and as I gently tasted the skin on his neck. I pulled him into my lap so that our bodies were pressed against each other. Andreas let me. He bit back moans as I started to bite down. His lips brushed against my ear as he whispered my name. “Jackson...”</em></p><p>“Mr. Peters?”</p><p>I blinked. Andreas’ face was still a foot away from mine. His lips and mine had never really made contact. He was still sitting next to me, a few inches away. Far away.</p><p>“Yes?” My voice was hoarse.</p><p>“It’s your turn.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hi guys, sorry for the relatively short and somewhat early update today! update schedule for the next two chapters should be consistent!</p><p>ps- it’s come to my attention that this version of twenty questions may not be the most common one, but it’s the one im used to and so it’s the one Andreas Adair is most used to. sorry for any inconvenience or confusion this may cause for you as a reader!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A Brief History of Jackson Peters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters’ life wasn’t always perfect.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey i hope you guys don’t mind the early update! I decided to do something... different... this chapter...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Jackson Peters was born on a snowy day in a slum just outside of Chicago. His mother's name was Ada'sha Curtis. His father was unknown. Ada'sha was fourteen when she gave birth to her son, but she cared for him the best she could with only her grandmother to watch him while she went off to school everyday. The girl was so young and inexperienced, though, that a few months later, her son was taken from her. Jackson Peters was then bounced across several foster homes- some were good to him, some not- until he was nearly eleven years old, when he was adopted by an older couple. They were a married couple by the names of Ray and Stacy Peters. If you'd asked him now to name any of the people he stayed with before Ray and Stacy, he couldn't tell you. Maybe it was because he didn't like any of them as much as he liked Ray and Stacy. Or maybe it was because his head was always buried in a comic book or a science encyclopedia. Jackson was a bit of a nerd through middle and high school, and though he still is, he is now devoted more towards self loathing and trying to cook risotto rather than the adventures of Batman and Robin. Otherwise, Jackson was a predictably quiet kid with maybe one or two close friends. He didn't get a girlfriend until his senior year of high school, and that only lasted a month. Before then, Ray would sometimes worry that his son was gay, and even rant to Jackson about his religious beliefs and how the world today has gone "soft on men," whatever that meant. The boy would nod and pretend to agree, but secretly resent his father later on. Ray was a very stern, very imposing man who served in the army back in the eighties before he nearly shattered his femur, had to get a full leg amputation, and go through more than a year of physical recovery. However, there was a nurse at the hospital who took care of him through all his highs and lows.</em>
  <br/>
  <em> Her name back then was Stacy Villanueva. He went on to marry her almost exactly two years after they met. When they were both in their forties, after nearly years of living contentedly by themselves, they decided they wanted children. However, after a few years of fruitless attempts, Ray found out that he was infertile. The two thought they could live alone together as they always had, but when they both started getting older and closer to the age of seventy, something suddenly switched in the both of them and they decided to adopt eleven year old Jackson. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> While Ray may have been described by some as abrasive and hard to deal with, Stacy was very much the opposite. Ray smoked cigars, had a barking laugh, and a serious demeanor, but Stacy was a rather delicate and feminine creature who enjoyed more domestic things. After her retirement, she focused on gardening, her son, and playing bingo at church on Tuesday and Friday nights. She never told Jackson that being gay was in any way wrong or unnatural- her close friend, Mary, was bisexual herself. But despite her and Ray's different views, they both remained devoted to one another, up until the very end. When Jackson was eighteen years old, he graduated from Jacobson High School. The day of the ceremony, however, he noticed that neither Ray nor Stay showed. He stepped up on stage and pretended nothing was wrong while he gave his salutatorian speech. He accepted his diploma with a broad smile, dimples and all, but even then, his parents weren't in the audience to witness this moment, this amazing achievement in Jackson's life. When he got home later that night after his friend's graduation party, he was furious. He was ready to give his parents a mouthful, to ask them how it felt to miss their only child's high school school graduation, but stopped when he noticed his mother at the dinner table, her face in her hands as her quiet sobs rang through the tiled kitchen. Jackson would never forget the look on her face when she looked up at him. She didn't have to say anything. The sheer fact that Ray wasn't there across from her, sipping a mug of black coffee and flipping through a daily gazette let Jackson know everything he needed to.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em> He found out later that his father suffered from a stroke earlier that day.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ray's funeral was that next Saturday. Jackson didn't know how to cope with losing someone he never truly knew. But he did know that seeing his mother so devastated made him feel a sense of mourning and loss as well. Stacy was never quite the same after her husband's death. She was despondent and rarely got out of bed. She even let her believed petunias and roses and pansies wither and die in her backyard. Then, and after a month or two, she died alone in her home while Jackson was on his first date with Jennifer Gallagher, also known as Jenn by her close friends and family.</em>
  <br/>
  <em> Jackson no longer had a family. Perhaps he never had one to begin with. Or perhaps he was doomed to always have his family taken away from him. He was taken away from his birth mother. The people he considered his mother and father later in life died before he could make them grandparents. What could've stopped the universe from taking away any of his family in the future? This kept Jackson from having the drive to stay with Jenn. He thought that is he decided to stay with her, she might die or leave him. It was a foolish thing for a man as logic-oriented as Jackson to believe, but could you blame him? The man had been through so much loss that he thought nothing was permanent and every time he attempted to make it so, the universe found a way to take it from him. But Jennifer wouldn't give up on him. At nineteen years old, she believed that she had already found the one. Eventually, she found a way to raise him out of his dark mindset, and once she did, he was able to smile like he did once before.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jackson and Jenn didn't want to get married. They both agreed that marriage may ruin what they already had, and they stayed simply as two people who understood and loved and lived with one another until they were thirty five and thirty six years old. At that point, the two had been together for almost eleven years and had even come to the point of living in the same house and sharing a cat named Lilo (who they happened to give away only a month into having her), but were getting somewhat sick of each other. Leaving the toilet seat up or saying anything with a slight attitude was subject to an explosive argument, some that would leave neighbors cowering in fear. Jennifer decided one night that she’d had enough and she up and left. Jackson had no problem with that. That night, he ordered McDonald’s and fell asleep on the couch with the TV still on.</em>
  <br/>
  <em> Around a week or two later, Jennifer was in an apartment complex not far from the house she and Jackson used to live in when she discovered that she was late in her period and started throwing up in the mornings. She didn’t want to go back to Jackson’s for help, though, so she went to the doctor by herself and had it confirmed: she was going to have a baby.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She showed up at Jackson’s front door somewhere around two am. When he came to the door, she buried her head in his chest and started crying, but whether it was out of despair or hysteria, even she wouldn’t know. He wrapped his arms around her, and after the two had some hot cocoa in the kitchen and Jenn unpacked her things in their room, she told Jackson that she was pregnant. Jackson felt a flurry of emotions, and he didn’t know which one to pick. He decidedly chose to be happy when he and Jennifer welcomed little baby Arabella into the world nine months later.</em>
  <br/>
  <em> When his daughter grasped his finger with her small hands and looked up at him with big hazel eyes, he knew right then that of course nothing was permanent. But what mattered was now. And now that he had a real family, he was going to cherish them no matter what.</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>next chapter should be up by or on next Saturday. </p><p>ps- sorry it’s kinda short! unfortunately, this is the only update in which imma tell stories about jackson’s past, but no worries, you’ll get a few chapters like this for Andreas too!</p><p>thanks for everything! love y’all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair remain in the elevator</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair are still in the damn elevator.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi! sorry for such a short chapter. again. :(<br/>(see end notes)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <table class="Bs nH iY bAt">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td class="Bu yM"> </td>
<td class="Bu bAn">
<div class="nH if">
<div class="nH aHU">
<div class="nH hx">
<div class="nH">
<div class="h7 ie nH oy8Mbf">
<div class="Bk">
<div class="G3 G2">
<div>
<div>
<div class="adn ads">
<div class="gs">
<div class="">
<div class="ii gt">
<div class="a3s aXjCH">
<div>I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. It took me a second to really ground myself in reality. And to get used to this cold vacuum of space between us. </div>
<p> </p>
<p>"Ah." I rubbed a hand over my face. "Right. The game." </p>
<p>"<em>Right</em>." Andreas tilted his head ever so slightly, a lock of hair spilling from the top of his head and partially obscuring his left eye. My hand itched to brush it away from his face. I forced myself to look away. "Are you okay, Mr. Peters?" </p>
<p>I ignored his question. "Um... how- how much longer do we have?" </p>
<p>"Seriously?" His dark eyebrows knit together. "You can ask me absolutely anything and you ask about the time we have left?" He smirked, and I immediately suppressed the urge to tell him don't do that. "Am I <em>that</em> insufferable?"</p>
<p>You know how once you see someone in a certain lens it's almost impossible to see them the way you did before? It's like when you have a dream about a classmate in eighth grade and suddenly have feelings for them when you wake up. It was like that when I looked at Andreas. </p>
<p>Although I knew everything in my mind was fabricated, including how soft his skin was, I couldn't help but briefly think about how it felt when his fingers ran through my hair. How warm his breath was against my cheek. The human mind is a cursed thing. I didn't want to look at anyone else like this, especially not <em>Andreas Adair</em>, of all people. </p>
<p>I didn't answer him and instead focused solely on my worn out sneakers. </p>
<p>"Well," I heard him shift, maybe to look at the time on his phone. "we have sixteen minutes left. Apparently, anyway." </p>
<p>"That's good."</p>
<p>"I guess." </p>
<p>We sat side by side in silence for what seemed like eternity. The entire cabin was silent apart from a subtle buzz overhead that most elevators had for some reason. At least it wasn't cheap elevator music. There was something about stepping into an elevator and hearing Carly Rae Jepsen first thing that almost unnerved me. Andreas being here at all already made me feel uneasy for reasons I couldn't pointedly describe in words and quite frankly, don't want to. I wondered if everyone who encountered him felt this way. Maybe it was the sheer privilege that radiated off him or the undeniable fact that he was completely and utterly perfect in every fucking way. I was more inclined to admit the former than the latter. The inside of my mouth was unbearably dry. I swallowed and felt Andreas' eyes fixate on my Adam's apple as it briefly bobbed up and down. Why was his gaze so satisfying? Why did I feel good knowing that he gave me an ounce of attention? It meant nothing. He focused on my throat because there's nothing else to focus on here. And yet I couldn't erase that feeling from my mind. I don't think I ever will. </p>
<p>"It's your turn, you know." I tried to keep a light tone. I was going to be in the same enclosed space as him for the next fifteen or so minutes, I might as well stay friendly, right?</p>
<p>I saw a hint of a real smile on Andreas' face. "Alright, Mr. Peters, riddle me this: what's your favorite drink?" </p>
<p>In hindsight, I expected much worse. But this was still a difficult question. After my dad died when I was eighteen, I sort of spiraled. What started off as just me starting to go to more frat parties and playing more beer pong turned into me getting a fake ID and wasted almost every other night. I would've probably died at twenty if Jenn never pulled me out of that whole thing. I've had ups and downs, of course, but Jenn forced me to go to these Alcoholics Anonymous meetings and to go sober. My twenties were especially rough, and I remember spiraling back into alcohol after college when I was around twenty six. Then came fights with Jenn, more meetings, more lying, and hiding a bottle of Jack Daniels under the nightstand. Arabella being born changed everything, though. I was a little more than five years sober now. Lately, though, I've been starting to miss the sweet burn of a glass of whiskey. Maybe it's because Jenn and Ari aren't around, but it's still dangerous. I hesitate to answer. The old Jackson would've told Andreas that his favorite drink was bourbon. But the new Jackson said, "I don't have one." </p>
<p>Andreas arched a brow. "You don't?" </p>
<p>"What did you think I was gonna say?" </p>
<p>He turned his head more to look at me. "You seem like someone who would drink whiskey. Neat." </p>
<p>He had me there. The sheer fact that he was able to guess something too personal just by having known me for a week. "Well, you misjudged me." I lied. </p>
<p>"I suppose I did. Your turn." </p>
<p>"...Okay." </p>
<p>And it went on like that for the next sixteen or so minutes. We mostly asked really softball questions, such as:</p>
<p><em>What's your favorite color?</em></p>
<p><em>Why did you decide to work here?</em></p>
<p><em>What're your hobbies?</em></p>
<p><em>What do you like to do in your free time?</em></p>
<p><em>What's your favorite movie?</em></p>
<p><em>And do you prefer city life or the countryside?</em></p>
<p>In those sixteen minutes, I learned that Andreas' favorite color is navy blue, his hobbies include running and reading, and his favorite movie is <em>The Shawshank Redemption</em>. I finally forgot about my daydream about it for a moment. Only a moment. But that was enough. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Suddenly, I blurted out a question I shouldn't have. It wasn't highly suggestive. But it could've been, and that was the problem. "How do you like your eggs in the morning?" I wanted to smack my forehead right after saying it, it was so stupid. </p>
<p>Andreas wasn't fazed, though. He didn't smirk like I thought he would. He didn't even have a snarky response. He just wrinkled his nose in thought and bit his lip. I forced myself to look away. </p>
<p>"Poached." He finally answered. His thoughtful eyes met mine, and my chest tightened. "Jackson, I can't help but wonder..."</p>
<p>I scooted closer to him so that our shoulders brushed against each other. I ignored the tingling, burning sensation that crawled up my arm from this small bit of contact. "Yeah?" My voice was more tender than I meant it to be, but I thought for a wonderful second that his expression softened ever so slightly at the sound of it. </p>
<p>"I..." He tore his eyes away and focused them once again at the wall in front of him. "Are you happy with your life, Jackson?"</p>
<p>I melted at the sound of him saying my name. However, the question burned in my chest. Was<em> I really happy with where I was?</em></p>
</div>
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</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</td>
<td class="Bu yM">

<div class="nH">
<div class="no">

</div>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i've been having a lot of internet issues and i actually lost all of my progress the other day and had to rewrite this entire chapter. since i still wanted to upload it on time, i decided to just type from memory and as a result, had to submit the chapter with less than 80% of the original content. as of now, i'm still in the editing process of playing with fire as a whole (minor edits, revisions, etc.) and can't have a constant upload schedule until after i build a buffer of chapters, but the eighth chapter should, for one thing, be much, much longer than the past two uploads and released by the end of april.<br/>thank you for all the hits, comments, and kudos! love y'all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair are finally rescued</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair finally get out of that DAMN elevator. Also, Andreas asks Jackson out.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey! bit of an early update here, but i hope you like it, it’s a bit sappy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wanted to say I was. I should've, really. Didn't I have everything I ever wanted? I parted my lips, but no words would come out. I took a deep breath and tried again. Still nothing. Andreas waited patiently next to me as he placed a strand of hair behind his ear. Thankfully, he didn't say a word. And apparently, neither could I. After an uncomfortable two minutes of trying and failing to utter the word yes, he decided to fill the silence for me. "It's stupid to ask that, though, right?" I tried to respond before he cut me off. "I mean, you seem happy. Most of the time. And I'm sure you have a wonderful functioning family and your parents love you. You give off that sort of vibe." I couldn't tell if he was saying that to be condescending or genuine. Knowing Andreas, it could be a muddy mix of both, but hell, I couldn't get a read on this kid. His eyes focused on me once again, and I tried to suppress the rising heat in my face as he focused on my lips for a brief second. But it was just my imagination making me see what I wanted to see. Right? "Is there even anything else you'd want out of life?"</p>
<p>Yes.</p>
<p>Yes there was.</p>
<p>For some goddamn reason.</p>
<p>"There's..." I swallowed, hard. "There is... this one thing. That I'd like."</p>
<p>He tilted his head a little, an adorable gesture I found myself replaying in my head over and over later that night. "Yeah? And what's that? More money?" He paused. "A girlfriend?"</p>
<p>"N- Well, not really."</p>
<p>Andreas blinked at me like I was a fascinating test subject. Yet I liked the attention. His voice lowered. "Then... what?"</p>
<p>I looked at him. Really looked at him. His curious eyes that were warm like chocolate, his slight form that'd be easy to hold down, and most of all, his slender neck which begged to be bitten. A wave of remorse and guilt washed over me as the image of Jenn and Arabella walking towards the airport's sliding doors came to mind. Hand in hand. My family. I couldn't, <em>wouldn't</em> betray them. Not like this. Andreas wouldn’t be receptive to me, anyway. Still, when we looked at each other, I felt like I could. Like I could, for one horrible moment, lose myself in him, and he wouldn’t mind. "What I want..." I tried to stop myself from leaning forward, towards him, but couldn't. I turned my face at the last moment, leaning the side of my head on his shoulder instead of...</p>
<p>And to my surprise, he almost immediately leaned into me, too.</p>
<p>"What I want is to get out of this damn elevator." I breathed.</p>
<p>Andreas laughed, and it's like he felt warmer. Fuller. "Yeah, I guess that's one thing."</p>
<p>I closed my eyes and breathed him in, letting his scent drown me. I wouldn't have minded staying there longer. Even just for a fraction of a second. It occurred to me that perhaps he knew that I was going to say something else. Even what it may have been. But for now, I relished in the possibility that he didn't. And that things were going to be okay. He would finish his internship here in four months, I would mentor him here and there, and then I'd never see him again. Then everything would go back to normal. I assumed that this was just a fluke. It was me being weird because Jenn and Ari were gone. Of course.</p>
<p>Suddenly, we were both startled by a loud <em>bang</em> outside. A sliding sound. A mix of disappointment and relief bubbled in my gut. I sat up as the door was pried open to reveal Mr. Knightley, another man named Mr. Pearson, and a few or so concerned employees. As we were helped out of the narrow opening they managed, I vowed to never take the elevator again.</p>
<p>Once out, I rubbed the back of my neck and felt a light sheen of sweat. The pathetic crowd had dissipated and Mr. Knightley and Mr. Pearson went to work on the elevator after a few brief questions aimed at us about whether we were alright, if we noticed anything strange, the works. Andreas glanced up at my face- he was at least a head shorter than me- and elbowed me in the side. And then, in a low voice, he uttered, "Don't you dare tell anyone about anything that happened in there."</p>
<p>"I won't."</p>
<p>"Good." He turned on his heel, but before he went, he looked over his shoulder and smirked. "Because then, I'm afraid, my dear Jackson, you'd owe me a favor."</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>It was the middle of September by the time I really had a conversation with Andreas again. We'd seen each other around the facility, him smirking at me and me occasionally chirping out a "good morning" here and there, but not much else. It was a Monday. I was in my office, making some final arrangements for the annual anniversary gala for Abernathy Labs that Thursday. This year's theme, thanks to Mr. Knightley and Ashley Nakamura, was "Starry Night," whatever that meant. Jenn usually came with me to these types of things as my plus one, but since she couldn't make it, I was gonna have to go alone. Not like it was a big deal. I always left parties and company dinners early, anyway. I was planning on just heading home right after the dinner to eat McDonald's in front of the TV. It was a flawless plan. Then, Andreas Adair popped his head into my office. "Hey, Jackson," He chirped, his eyes bright. "I just got off the phone with Emerson's secretary over at O'Malley Labs, Emerson and his plus one are no longer attending due to the fact that his father just died. Also, Mr. Knightley's wife and oldest daughter just informed me that they're doing a vegan thing, so you're also gonna have to take that up with the caterers. Also, Valorie Maldonado from the engineering department decided to bring a plus one after all, so that-"</p>
<p>I groaned and slammed my head against the desk, apparently too hard, because I saw Andreas flinch in the corner of my eye.</p>
<p>"Jeez, Jackson," He said my name like he'd been doing it his whole life. "if you were that stressed about the whole thing, just ask the other department heads for help." Andreas casually sat on the corner of the desk closest to me and crossed his right leg over his left. "You're not responsible for the entire event, you know."</p>
<p>"Yeah, I know, it's just-"</p>
<p>"Your face is mashed into the mahogany, I can't hear you."</p>
<p>I craned my neck a little bit so my lips were granted more freedom. "Yeah I know," I repeated. "It's just that I'm new here and I wanted everyone to think I was capable and competent, so I..."</p>
<p>"You volunteered to plan the entire thing yourself."</p>
<p>"Okay, <em>no</em>, but I did volunteer to take care of the catering, the seating, and the invitations."</p>
<p>Andreas cocked a brow. "So, almost everything."</p>
<p>"Hey, Sherry from the biochem engineering department booked the venue." Based on Andreas' expression, he wasn't impressed.</p>
<p>"You <em>could</em> just ask me for help, Jackson. I've done this plenty of times for my father, you know. Besides, it's only a few setbacks."</p>
<p>I quickly straighten up to shake my head. "No. No way. I couldn't ask you to do that."</p>
<p>Andreas scoffed and stood up, walking over to the seating chart and computer screen in front of me. "Move over."</p>
<p>I reluctantly rolled my chair a few inches to the right so he could properly look at everything we needed to alter. Well, not we. He. "Yeah, yeah, just buy me dinner or something and we'll call it even."</p>
<p>I stopped mid-sigh of relief. He told me that I could buy him dinner. Like it was nothing. Like it was just a normal thing you ask of people. It probably was. I was probably just being really hopeful. Even then, a coffee or some lunch would've been more casual than that. I watched as with laser sharp focus, he started rearranging the names on the chart, removing Emerson and his wife, then adding the name Maura Cummins-Wilson, who I assumed was Valorie Maldonado's plus one. "By the way," He looked up at me and half-smirked. "I'm mildly allergic to tree nuts. Just thought that might be useful information."</p>
<p>I looked away to hide my expression. "Right."</p>
<p>"Jackson, seriously, <em>relax</em>. I don't bite." He paused and I felt his eyes focus in on me for a brief moment. I tried to ignore him. "I mean, unless you want me to."</p>
<p>I sputtered and immediately spun around to his smug face, clicking around on my monitor, like nothing happened. A ball of fury knotted in the pit of my stomach. "Andreas, you- you can't joke like that. You're-"</p>
<p>Andreas quickly leaned in, his nose only a hair away from touching mine. I willed for the blood rising to my cheeks to go away as he studied my eyes with his much darker ones.</p>
<p>"Or what, Jackson?" His voice was dangerously low, almost a purr. "What'll you do?"</p>
<p>I averted my gaze, trying to think about Jenn and Ari. My Jennifer and Arabella. I blinked, hard. "Andreas. Seriously."</p>
<p>Perhaps a second too long, he stayed where he was. So close, I could feel the warmth radiating off him. A familiar warmth. Then, he stepped away and proceeded to type something into his phone.</p>
<p>I frowned, the annoyance only festering inside me more. "Hey, we're not done-" I got up, starting towards him to give him a piece of my mind, but before I could, he held up a hand to stop me as he slapped on a smile and wedged his phone between his ear and his shoulder.</p>
<p>"Hello, is this the Camembert Catering Company?" I hated how Andreas' voice could go from borderline alluring to disgustingly polite in less than a second. "Yes, I'm with the Abernathy Institute of Technology and Scientific Advancements, and I've recently been informed that two of our guests at the event this Thursday will be requiring vegan courses, if you could let me know if-"</p>
<p>I shook my head and started out the door, because I didn't think I could be with that kid any longer. He wasn't completely insufferable, that's not what I'm saying. Andreas hadn't been all too bad since the whole elevator fiasco. But there was something about being in a room with him for too long while <em>he</em> was being all wonderful and perfect that made me feel suffocated. I didn't know where I was going. I just needed to go away. I ended up at the vending machines in the staff break room on the first floor, inserting a dollar into the beverage machine's slot, and getting a Diet Coke. It was something I drank while I was getting over my alcohol addiction, but now I was dependent on it to keep myself sane sometimes. I took a sweet, bubbly sip as I leaned against a counter near the back of the room, listening to the hum of a fan in the corner.</p>
<p>"Ah, Peters!"</p>
<p>I nearly jumped a mile high before I noticed the stout man with graying hair entering through a side door.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> It wasn’t Andreas, and that’s all that mattered.</span></p>
<p>"Oh. Hello, Mr. Knightley." I straightened up, either to look more proper in front of my boss, or to hide the fact that I was stress-drinking. "So, are you excited for the gala Thursday night?"</p>
<p>Mr. Knightley chuckled to himself as he poured a cup of coffee for himself on the perpendicular counter. "Of course, but I think Henrietta's much more excited than I am by a long shot."</p>
<p>I racked my brain, trying to figure out if Henrietta is Knightley's child or his wife. Then again, Irene might be the wife. Or was it the daughter? I shouldn’t have been trusted with guest lists or seating, ever.</p>
<p>"My eldest daughter." He offered. I nodded like I knew all along. The man rubbed his chin before taking a long sip of his mug. "She's fifteen. Old enough to attend now. She's especially excited to see Andreas." He winked, a playful grin on his lips.</p>
<p>Diet Coke went down my windpipe, and I started choking. Knightley, eyes wide, immediately sets his coffee down and pats my back, saying things like "just breathe, son," and "you're alright." My eyes watered as I tried desperately to dislodge the liquid in that awkward part of my throat that refused to comply. I breathed in and out, slowly. The thought of someone liking Andreas wasn't upsetting or anything, right? I was just caught off-guard. I swallowed some of my spit in a vain to attempt to get it down, then took a swig of some more Coke before speaking again. "Andreas? I mean... I'm sure your daughter..." I tried again to cough up the soda, to no avail. "I'm sure Henrietta deserves better."</p>
<p>Knightley paused, a hand still positioned to pat my back. Then Knightley did something I never expected. He bursted our in hysterical laughter. I mean, hands-resting-on-knees, tear-jerking, wheezy laughter. A blush rose in my cheeks as I wondered if he was laughing at me or at what I said. Looking back, it was probably a mixture of both.</p>
<p>"Oh," Mr. Knightley straightened his tie and still grinning, lifted his mug to his lips. "Yes, I'm sure you've gotten quite tired of the Adair kid, eh?"</p>
<p>Out of relief, I grinned with him, trying to ignore the pressing pressure in the bottom of my throat. "You said it, not me."</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>When I finally made a round or two around the first floor then did the same on the second, I returned to my office. It was my office, after all. I shouldn't have been kept away from it because someone I didn't like was in there. I had a plan mapped out in my mind. I was going to tell him that his help was no longer needed, that I'd let him know when I can buy him a meal or whatever, and that he should get going to fulfill his other intern duties. I marched through the door, mouth poised to do just those things, when I realized my office was empty. He'd already left. Because of course he did. On my computer monitor was a sticky note written on with blocky, precise writing.</p>
<p>
  <em>The caterers are on board and the seating chart is complete. I'll update the official guest list by tonight. You're welcome. </em>
</p>
<p>And on the bottom of the note was a phone number and a smiley face. When I looked at the seating chart, it was even neater than I'd left it, with about a dozen or so names removed and another dozen added, along with a few names switched here and there. Among those arrangements that were altered, there was mine and Andreas.' I'd originally had him sitting at the same table as Knightley's daughter, (who I’d correctly guessed was Henrietta) mostly because I assumed they were the same age. But through some sort of miracle, he was able to place the names perfectly so that his seat was now next to mine.</p>
<p>I swallowed the faint remnants of aspartame at the back of my throat as I raised a hand to place his name back where it was, away from me. Then I remembered the way his voice raises the hair on the back of my neck. The cold few inches of space between Andreas and I in the elevator. The warmth radiating off him as he stood close enough to kiss me. And I decided against it. Exasperated, I grabbed another dollar from my wallet and decided that I needed another Diet Coke.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>That night, around midnight, I laid awake in bed and stared at the gray ceiling above me. Two hours before, I'd just gotten off call with Jenn and Ari. It was still hard to sleep without a warm body next to me, though. Without Jenn's steady breathing keeping me calm as I watched her chest rise and fall. As anybody would do, I picked up my phone and began looking through all my social media, all the news outlets, and everything else in a last-ditch effort to get myself to sleep. But even after I checked my Instagram for the fifth time, I still felt a buzz over my entire body, refusing to let me rest. Suddenly, almost against my will, I opened my contacts list and my thumb hovered over the call button on Andreas' number. I saved it under "Andreas Adair." Reluctantly. I mean, I didn't have a choice. My thumb hovered for a few seconds longer, maybe even minutes, before I pressed it, because fuck it. I didn't expect him to pick up, anyways. He had work the next day, just like I did, but then he actually <em>picked up</em>. Midway into the third ring, when I was ready to press "end call." I froze, uncertain.</p>
<p>"Hello?"</p>
<p>His voice sounded alert. I could tell he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, either. But people's voices never felt the same over the phone, and Andreas' was no exception. It didn't feel as warm.</p>
<p>"Uh, <em>hellooo</em>?"</p>
<p>"Hey," I finally said after maybe a little too long. "It's... it's Jackson." Then for no reason, I added, "Peters. From work."</p>
<p>Andreas didn't miss a beat. "Jackson! Just the person I wanted to hear from."</p>
<p>I sat up and turned on a lamp, because it felt too intimate to be on the phone with someone in the dark while you were laying in bed. "Oh. Really?"</p>
<p>"Yeah. I finished the official guest list and submitted it to Knightley. And don't worry, I told him that you told me to email it to him so it doesn't look like you made me do it or anything."</p>
<p>I exhaled and felt the weight on my shoulder ease up, if just a little bit. "Thanks. I'll be sure to treat you to something good when I can."</p>
<p>"Speaking of," Andreas shifted under what sounded like a comforter. Oh god, should I be in bed, too, then? Was it too awkward for him to be in bed and for me not to be? "I'm free next Tuesday night."</p>
<p>"Yeah. Yeah, that works." Not like I had much of a life anyway. <em>Wait, why was he even still awake</em>? He had work tomorrow too. The realization dawned on me, immediately filling me with guilt. "Wait, why are you still awake? Don't tell me you stayed up working on the guest list, I told you didn't have to help me."</p>
<p>"Huh? No, I submitted it ages ago. I couldn't sleep so I just went for a run and then I started cooking pasta, and then after I ate the pasta, I went swimming, and then I took a bath for, like, an hour, and then I got into bed to finish reading a book and you just so happened to call me."</p>
<p>"That's... a lot." I could barely even manage to drive home after hitting the gym some days.</p>
<p>I could almost hear him grin. "Yeah, well, so am I."</p>
<p>When nothing but silence filled the air between us (figuratively, of course), I debated on whether this was a good time or not to say our goodbyes and go our separate ways. I already received the information I needed, right?</p>
<p>"I'm guessing you can't sleep?" Andreas offered, his voice quieter now. I let myself admit that I liked it.</p>
<p>"Yeah. And you obviously can't, either."</p>
<p>"To be fair, I never can." I heard a rustling. Light footsteps on tile. A brief moment later, the clink of a glass.</p>
<p>"Do you... have insomnia?" I decided to stand up and pace around the apartment, a habit I exhibited whenever I called someone.</p>
<p>He laughed bitterly, without humor. "Something like that."</p>
<p>I decided not to press further on that. "Um... so what're you drinking?"</p>
<p>"Single malt scotch."</p>
<p>I stopped dead in my tracks, my feet cold against the hardwood. "Wait, what?"</p>
<p>"What did you expect, apple juice?"</p>
<p>Okay. So Andreas, a literal sixteen-year-old, drank alcohol. And as if it were a normal thing, no less. "You'll get a hangover." I said, finding that my voice had gotten tight.</p>
<p>"I can handle my alcohol, Jackson. Plus, I promise that it's only a few sips and that I'm drinking responsibly and all that jazz, alright?"</p>
<p>That didn't make my throat feel any less closed up. Or make my mind race any less. I thought about how I became addicted no less than two years above where he was.</p>
<p>As if he sensed my tension, he started speaking again, his calm voice bringing me back. "Oh. By the way, I know this is really sudden, but could you give me a ride to the gala on Thursday? If it isn't too much trouble, that is. My car is in the shop for a paint job at the moment."</p>
<p>I wanted to say, "<em>why not get an Uber</em>?" or "<em>why not ask a friend</em>?" Before I could stop myself, however, I said, "Sure. I'll pick you up at six. You can text me the address."</p>
<p>"Great. <em>Ciao</em>, Jackson. I'll see you tomorrow."</p>
<p>Even after he hung up, I stared at the screen which read his name, and underneath it, "call ended." I knew that he was probably much more responsible than I was. I still worried, though. Eventually, when I felt a twinge of fatigue in my fingers, I put my phone back on it's charger on my nightstand and pulled the covers to my chin as I laid in bed, once again staring at the familiar blank ceiling above me.<br/>I thought about the scotch sliding down Andreas' throat and settling in his stomach. Him swimming. Him presumably living alone as he made pasta and took baths and read books. Then I picked my phone back up, and unplugging it once again, searched up the best places to get a Chicago deep dish pizza in Seattle.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hey so im sorry, but im still unsure of when the next chapter will be uploaded, but it SHOULD be before... let’s say May 2nd?<br/>again, thank you guys for sticking with me and for sticking with my bois! thank you for the kudos, the comment, and the hits! please feel free to leave comments if you’d like!<br/>love y’all!<br/>ps - yes, i know that galas are usually used to raise money for a charity or cause, this particular one is going to be used to raise more funds to continue operating Abernathy, which will be explored more in the next update!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Jackson Peters starts getting attached</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair prepare for attend the gala.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>aaaaand here’s another one</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning, I found Andreas already sitting on the edge of my desk, flipping through a folder in my office, his white lab coat long abandoned, folded atop a beige filing cabinet in the corner. "I'm not even gonna ask." I muttered as I set a few of my things down next to him. He didn't seem hungover in the slightest, and I couldn't tell that he slept so late, either. He was crisply dressed in a fitted navy blue button-up with the sleeves rolled up, pleated khakis, and matching boat shoes. His eyes were alert behind his glasses, his lips already turned up at one corner.</p><p>"What, not even gonna say good morning to your so-called assistant?" He asked as he stood up and put the folder back where it was, in one of the filing cabinets.</p><p>"Hey, stop snooping, intern." I logged into my computer and checked over all the gala arrangements once again.</p><p>Andreas ignored me as he sat back in his usual spot on my desk, another file already in his hand as he hummed something incomprehensible. His left foot bobbed lightly as his eyes flitted over the various items in his hands. As if he was sitting in his own living room. I glanced over and saw that his thigh was only a few inches away from my mousepad. I pretended not to notice and instead focused on the gala. Everything seemed to be in order. Before dinner, from seven to seven thirty, it was socializing time, which technically meant persuading-rich-people-to-fund-us-time. Then there was a three-course dinner, which should be vegetarian, vegan, pescatarian, and lactose-intolerant friendly. The auction for our latest tech and advancements after dinner was supposed to end before ten thirty. Then I checked over the guest list again, the seating chart, and the catering company, all while Andreas contentedly sat only a few inches away from me, occasionally getting up to retrieve another file. "Hey, don't you have <em>actual</em> work to do?"</p><p>Andreas looked up at me over his frames, which now sat low on his nose. "What, you don't enjoy my <em>stellar</em> company?"</p><p>"Well." I pressed my lips together. "I'm not saying I don't." I allowed myself a small grin as I continued to look through folders upon folders of lists and charts, only looking to make sure they looked the same as when I checked them when I woke up.</p><p>"Aww, I'm touched." He pressed a hand on his chest. "You know, if I could, I would spend all day in this office with you, just reading stuff."</p><p>
  <em>In this office with you.</em>
</p><p>"What were you reading?" I asked, not even looking up.</p><p>"Oh, I'm just reading old lab trials and whatnot. I picked up one on accident and then I couldn't stop."</p><p>"No, I meant..." I attempted to swallow the sudden dryness in my throat. "I meant last night. You mentioned you were reading something."</p><p>Andreas slid the filing cabinet's top drawer closed, the papers he just read now safely back where they were before. He paused there for maybe a second too long before glancing over his shoulder, at me. "You remember that?"</p><p>I ignored the feeling of satisfaction that rose in my chest at the genuine surprise and what almost sounded like fondness in Andreas' voice. "Of course. It was only a few hours ago, right?"</p><p>"Touché." He took his seat, perhaps an inch or two closer than before, and watched me work for a quiet moment before finally answering. "Lolita. By Vladimir Nabokov. You know it?"</p><p>I flinched, remembering the novel's premise from a literature class I took in college. How uncomfortable it made me feel upon reading it as an eighteen year old. "Sorta. Never finished it, though. Did you?"</p><p>"Yeah. Want me to tell you how it ends?"</p><p>I blinked. <em>Not really</em>. "Sure."</p><p>"Lolita gets pregnant by a playwright named Quilty, Humbert kills the guy and ends up in jail, then Lo dies from childbirth and Humbert dies in prison. The end."</p><p>I blinked harder, finally deciding to look up at Andreas. "Jeez, that's..."</p><p>"I know." He half-smirked as he rested his chin in his hand. "Gotta love the classics."</p><p>I smiled beside myself. "You should read Romeo and Juliet. Now, <em>that </em>one's a real charmer."</p><p>"Too late, lover boy, been there, done that." He said as he reluctantly started to grin back. He wrinkled his nose before adding, "And it's way overrated."</p><p>I let my jaw slacken and watched him laugh at my "how dare you?" face. I mean, sure, I considered myself a skeptic by all means, but Romeo and Juliet was one of the first romances I actually found myself caring about, and everything since we were forced to read it in sixth grade, it held a special place in my heart. "Hey, it is <em>timeless</em>."</p><p>Andreas playfully rolled his eyes and leaned back on his palms. "Seriously? Juliet was thirteen. She didn't understand love yet. And Romeo just seemed kinda creepy. Also, the whole thing at the end where they kill themselves? Shakespeare could’ve done better."</p><p>"Hey, she was actually almost fourteen."</p><p>"Like that makes it any better?"</p><p>We both doubled over in laughter for what seemed like hours, but when we both tried to get back up, we fell back into it immediately, repeating an endless cycle. It was then that I realized that Andreas was actually loosening up around me, being more willing to talk than intimidate. I wanted to push that thought away, let myself move the hell on. But it still nagged in the back of my mind. In fact, a part of it still does.</p><p> </p><p>After I got home from the gym, I called Jenn. As much as I wanted to convince myself that it was because I missed her and Ari, I knew the real reason, deep in the darkest cavity of my chest: I felt guilty. I knew that as long as I didn't do anything, like act on my impulses, things would be fine. It wasn't like Jenn was going to find out about my own private thoughts. But I didn't like having them. In fact, they made me wish I never had feelings at all. Especially not since we were supposed to get married sometime next year. Not like we set a date or even had anything planned yet, but we knew we couldn't put it off forever. I was going to marry Jennifer Gallagher. I was going to buy an actual house with her and live in it with Arabella, our daughter. That was my plan for years, and I was supposed to follow through with it. I decided before I pressed the green phone icon to commence the call that I was going to discuss the wedding with her. We were going to finally, finally set things up. I pressed the icon, and waited. One ring. Two rings. Then three and four. She finally picked up on the end of the fifth.</p><p>"Hey, honey!"</p><p>Her familiar voice gave me comfort. I sank into the couch, watching some quirky sitcom on TV with the volume low and the subtitles on.</p><p>"Hey, hon. How are you?"</p><p>"Good!" I imagined her, her dark tanned legs curled up under her as she lounged under a dark blue sky in her mother's backyard, which I knew for a fact was filled with pink roses, unnaturally green grass, and comfortable cushioned seats. Maybe Ari was inside with her grandmother, having a bedtime story read to her. "Ari loves how sunny it is. She's getting tanner by the day, I'm telling you."</p><p>I imagined our daughter running around the lawn with Jenn's mother's dog, Ginger, a spunky border collie. Ari absolutely adored Ginger. She always wanted a dog, but one, it was too much of a responsibility for a girl at the age of six, two, Jenn and I were at work most of the day, and three, I'm a cat person. But Jenn's allergic to cats, so here we were, with one recently deceased goldfish, a cat we both owned a lifetime ago that we ended up giving to one of Jenn’s old coworkers, and a vow to never own any other pets. I considered getting Ari a dog when we bought a house and after she had turned ten. Maybe I'd suck it up. "Is she still doing homeschool with your mom?"</p><p>"Yeah, don't worry, Jackson, she'll stay on track." I could practically hear her shrug. "Probably even get ahead. My mom homeschooled me until I was six, but I still turned out fine, right?"</p><p>"Eh..."</p><p>"Jackson!"</p><p>I smiled to myself, imagining how Jenn got when she was playful-angry, her brows furrowed and her fists balled. "You know I'm kidding. You turned out great."</p><p>"Thank you. I hope you're doing fine over there. You're not eating fast food constantly, right?"</p><p>I eyed the now-crumpled McDonald's bag sticking out of the trash can. I figured it wouldn't hurt if I was spending extra time at the gym. "Yeah, no, I'm learning how to cook."</p><p>"Are you now?" I hear a shift, light footsteps against grass. "You'd better be whipping out those skills when I see you for Thanksgiving."</p><p>I chuckled, mentally noting that I should google how to make stuffing later. "You bet."</p><p>We both sat in relative silence, the only sound being the faint TV in front of me and the sound of crickets on Jenn's end. Hours away, she was probably happily living with her mother and our daughter in sunny Sacramento. Happier than they'd be in rainy Seattle, at least. "I should go." I told her. But there was no reason. We'd only talked for a few minutes, after all. In college, we used to lay on the floor and converse for hours, all through the night until the sun shone through the windows and we were high on sleep deprivation. What happened? "I've gotta get to work kinda early tomorrow. But I'll call you, okay? And sometime earlier than ten pm."</p><p>"Okay, honey." Jenn replied, her voice soft. "Goodnight. I love you."</p><p>"Love you, too."</p><p>And with that, she hung up.</p><p>And I was forced to sit there and wonder why, when saying my name, Jenn and Andreas sounded so different.</p><p> </p><p>Wednesday morning, the facility was buzzing with excitement. The interns chatted among themselves, faces bright, and I could've sworn that I saw Mr. Knightley skipping around. Della, the lobby receptionist, upon seeing me, waved me over, practically beaming.</p><p>"So," She placed her freshly manicured nails on the desk before her, tan skin against a stark white. "I heard that the gala is gonna be really big this year."</p><p>"Well," I smugly shrugged as I leaned against the counter like I meticulously planned the whole thing. Which I knew I didn't. "The facility only turns twenty five once, right?"</p><p>Della nodded, maybe a bit too emphatically, then leaned a little closer to me, lowering her voice. "But I heard that we need to recruit a ton of new investors. Don't tell anyone I told you this, but Augustus Adair is planning to pull half of his funding."</p><p>My eyes widened. Augustus Adair pretty much funded almost thirty percent of our projects. If he no longer contributed to the budget, that meant cuts. At least twenty people would lose their job and a bunch of our plans for the future could get shot down. "But why? His own son is an intern here."</p><p>Della knit her brows together and pursed her lips, looking around for eavesdroppers before continuing, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's because recently, he suspects that there are people here who are working on a terminated project, conspiring against him." She nervously fiddled with the hem of her pencil skirt. "There was this serum that the biochem branch collaborated on last year. The one that was supposed to permanently increase physical healing when injected into a person's bloodstream?"</p><p>I nodded, making sure my voice was also low. "Project EXM4. You're telling me there's a person here who thinks they can make a version that actually works?"</p><p>Della casually smiled at Ashley Nakamura, who passed by and offered the both of us a brief wave. The instant Nakamura went out of earshot, Della focused at me again, her hazel eyes excited to spill the latest gossip. I was like her information vault. "Not a single person. I mean, there's no way there's not an entire team. But yeah. There's, like, an investigation and everything. Be careful, Jackson, or you might become a suspect."</p><p>I nodded at her and started walking off, all casual-like. I passed Nakamura on my way to my office, and offered her a passing grin. What if it was her? I mean, she was certainly smart enough, right? And she was one of the lead contributors to Project EXM4. It was entirely likely. I passed the break room and saw a glimpse of a familiar man with a shiny bald head and wide frame. Travis Smith. It easily could've been him, too. He dated Nakamura two years ago and they were even engaged for a month before she broke up with him. This could've been a way for him to get back at her, by completing a project she never could. I mean, I didn't know Travis that well or even if he was capable of that, but still. I gulped as I neared my office door. What if they somehow got convinced that it was me?</p><p>I stepped into my office, not even surprised to see Andreas already sitting there, in his usual spot, his back to me. I looked closer and realized that he was holding the copy of the seating chart. I closed the door behind me and set my things down, as usual. "I locked my office last night, how'd you get in?" I sat down in my office chair, facing him. As usual, he was dressed nicely, his lab coat long forgotten a few feet away.</p><p>He looked up at me and adjusted his glasses. "I have my ways. And by ‘ways,’ I mean I know how to pick locks."</p><p>I froze, blinking. "You couldn't have waited a few minutes for me to unlock it myself?"</p><p>A wry grin slowly spread on his face as he focused once again on the seating chart. "I'm a pretentious brat, remember? I get what I want, when I want it."</p><p>We shared a quick laugh. "Why're you staring so hard at the chart anyway? Are you regretting putting yourself next to me?"</p><p>Andreas suddenly looked up, uncrossing his legs. I was never going to get over how focused yet turbulent his eyes always were. "I'd never regret such a thing." There was no light or humor in his voice. Only a crisp firmness.</p><p>For maybe the tenth time since I'd met Andreas, I felt heat rise in my cheeks. "Oh."</p><p>I tossed the idea around in my brain. He obviously enjoyed my company to some degree, right? He chose to sit next to me for a dinner that lasted at least an hour when he could've sat with his other intern friends or literally anyone else. That had to mean something. I blurted, "I'm sorry for calling you pretentious in the elevator. And for insinuating you don't buy your own groceries. And... everything else."</p><p>Andreas looked up at me, surprise passing through his expression, just briefly, before he slapped on a too-wide smile. "What're you talking about, Jackson?"</p><p>"You..." It was almost worse when he pretended not to know what I was talking about. "You remember. In the elevator."</p><p>The smile melted away. He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, staring down at his boat shows, which were a stormy grey today. Finally, he quietly uttered, "Thanks. It's not a big deal, though, Jackson, you didn't have to apologize for anything. Like I said, I get it."</p><p>"But it wasn't okay." I stared at the screensaver on my desktop, a generic photo of a koala hanging off a branch. Its black beady eyes stared into my soul. "I shouldn't have said something like that, especially as your senior, as- as someone who's supposed to guide you. I lost my temper and I was being stupid."</p><p>Utter silence.</p><p>Even though I wasn't looking at him, I felt his eyes on me, on the side of my face as he absorbed what I just said. I expected him to say something, anything. An "okay" or an "apology accepted" would've been perfectly fine. In the corner of my eye, I see him set down the seating chart behind him and lean back on his palms, recrossing his legs. Andreas said nothing. He stared blankly at the wall. It's not like I even said something earth-shattering. I didn't understand his silence.</p><p>After a minute or two of building courage, I finally called his name.</p><p>"Andreas?"</p><p>"For the record, Jackson," He stated, his voice even. "I do happen to buy my own groceries." He promptly smirked at me.</p><p>Relieved, I chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>I was off work on Thursday, but that didn't mean I could miss the gala that evening. Unfortunately. After a morning at the gym and a brief afternoon wallowing in my own dread, I finally got off the couch around five, showered, shaved, put some product in my hair, and threw on the same plain black suit and tie I'd worn to every other formal event since I was twenty eight. The arms were slightly tight this time around, but still loose enough to simply be considered fitted. I looked at myself in the mirror. The black wavy hair, which flowed past my earlobes and was now pressed back the best I could manage. The strong jaw Jenn kissed after our second date. The green eyes that Andreas examined so closely. The relatively dark skin which made me struggle to survive in a predominantly Caucasian field. The faint scar on my left eyebrow from when one of my foster mothers threw a glass at me. The last question Andreas asked me in the elevator replayed in my mind once again, haunting me. "Is there even anything else you'd want out of life?" </p><p>
  <em>Everything.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nothing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Him.</em>
</p><p>I shook the thought from my head and straightened my tie in the mirror. When I pictured Andreas sitting next to me in the passenger's seat of my old Chevy, a foot and a half away from me at most, I decided to spray some cologne on my neck. Then I examined myself once more before slipping on my black loafers, slightly scuffed. The instant I tapped my contacts list to call Andreas, my phone started ringing with his name popping up. Speak of the devil. I answered immediately. "Hey, I was just about to call you. Could-"</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, I'll send you my address. I'm also going through a bit of a fashion crisis, so I think you're gonna have to come inside for a bit. I'll leave the front door unlocked. See ya."</p><p>Before I could protest, he hung up on me and promptly sent a location I could copy and paste into my GPS. Looking one more time in the mirror, I nodded. It was go time.</p><p> </p><p>Andreas lived almost thirty minutes away from me. For awhile, I drove through a road which had nothing but trees surrounding it, and I wondered if Andreas had typed in the correct address. Or if he gave me a fake one just to mess with me. Our relationship at that point wasn't tense or anything to the point where he'd do that, but the possibility still nagged at the back of my mind.</p><p>Eventually, though, the trees cleared, and the GPS read two minutes away. Even then, I was already running a few minutes late. I frowned before catching sight of the house to my right, on a hill which overlooked a glittering lake. I didn't want to believe that this was where Andreas Adair lived, but when I looked at my GPS, there was no doubt. There were no other residences close by, so it had to be this one. I took a deep breath and trekked uphill to the black pavement driveway, my mouth agape as I looked at Andreas Adair's home. I didn't even know what I expected, but it certainly wasn't this. </p><p>The house was tall. It had three floors adorned with large, spotless windows along almost each wall. The outside walls were white and sleek, like Della's desk, while the window frames, doors, and railings along the balcony and rooftop were jet black. It was relatively skinny, but still felt bigger than any home I'd ever seen before. It was obviously contemporary, just the type of house I liked and wanted to buy in the future. However, it was still, admittedly, a house that screamed “Andreas Alexander Adair.”  I couldn't wait to see how it looked on the inside. I bounced out of my truck and entered through the first door I saw, which was, as promised, unlocked.</p><p>I stepped onto shiny white marble and a blast of cold air. I gasped quietly as I gazed about. To the left of me was the kitchen and bar combo, with black marble counters, white cabinets, and about the highest tech appliances I'd ever seen. There was a lightly illuminated shelf under the bar which housed some nicely placed bottles of wine, whiskey, scotch, vodka, and about everything else. I tore my eyes away, ignoring my persistent impulses. Beyond the maroon barstools on the other side of that low shelf, there were these flat, widely spaced, silver column-looking things which separated the bar and the living room. And the living room was a separate beast in of itself, way nicer than our entire apartment. There was one long, grey couch with matching circular pillows and two matching loveseats along each side of it, making a loose C-shape. A square glass coffee table in the center held a simple sky blue vase with orchids intricately made of thin purple wires, because of course Andreas wouldn't keep any live plants. Under all this was a fuzzy black and white rug with a speckled pattern that looked softer than anything I'd ever seen. This all faced a panel of wall-to ceiling windows overlooking the lake. To the left side of the living room, there was this glass spiral staircase, which didn't have so much as a fingerprint on them, and to the right side, there was a short hall that had one identical door on each wall and ended with some closed double-doors. I could feel myself drooling. It was like something straight out of a rich person's home decor magazine. I reminded myself to ask Andreas for interior decorating tips later on. I wanted to go upstairs and see everything else, but I knew that would've been weird, so for the time being, I occupied myself by staring at the modern art on the walls, almost touching the wire orchids, and stepped lightly, like I was afraid I'd break something if I put too much pressure on my feet.</p><p>I found myself standing in the space between the silver pillars and the bar, so absorbed in my gawking that I barely noticed the furry thing brushing up against my leg. "Huh?" I looked down to see a long-haired grey cat with yellow eyes wearing a brown leather collar. It bent its neck upward and meowed cautiously at me.</p><p>I wanted to cry upon seeing its little golden orbs stare up at me. I always wanted a cat in high school, but my mom was allergic and my dad hated them. And now here I was, wanting to steal Andreas Adair's cat.</p><p>"I see you've met Titus." Andreas' smooth voice brought me back into reality. I listened as Andreas came down the spiral staircase, barely bothering to glance up. Squatting down, I gingerly pet Titus, who didn't resist.</p><p>"Where'd you get him?" I asked, still focusing entirely on this adorable little fuzzy thing in front of me, who now rubbed against my bent knees.</p><p>"He was a gift from my father." I waited until Andreas' footsteps stopped a small distance away from me and Titus scampered back to his master before finally standing and looking up.</p><p>"So, what do you think?"</p><p>And for the second time that day, my jaw went slack.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>tenth chapter should be released sometime before the end of may, so please be patient with me! thanks for everything,<br/>love y’all! </p><p>ps - the story is still on the editing process, so if there’s any minor spelling/vocabulary/continuity errors, please ignore them! i’ll try to fix them when i read it over again!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair arrive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair finally arrive to the gala.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Andreas Adair was wearing a fitted royal blue suit with a crisp white shirt underneath it, the unbuttoned collar revealing smooth skin underneath. His black loafers were so pristine, Titus was almost able to see his reflection against them. And the pants, which matched the suit jacket, were filled out quite nicely. The ensemble complemented everything about Andreas. His copper skin, his pink lips, his slim figure, his boyish smirk, his tousled yet neat hair. If there was one thing I didn't like about the outfit, it's that Andreas decided to wear contacts instead of his glasses. Like this, it was like I could remember him from the deep recesses of my mind. Like he’d existed there before I’d even known him. I stared at him longer. He looked both like someone I’d always known and someone I’d been looking for my whole life. I feel like I imagined it, but I could've sworn I saw Andreas look away sheepishly. "You look great," I breathed, still staring.</p><p>"Really?" His eyes widened in genuine surprise, it was adorable. "I thought maybe I was a little underdressed, but seeing you gawk at me, maybe I'll manage just fine." He combed his hair back with his fingers, and I looked on longingly, wishing I could do that for him.</p><p>For once, I didn't get embarrassed. I grinned and shrugged. "No, you'll definitely manage just fine. You're even on theme."</p><p>"I've gotta dazzle my audience, Jackson. Though I'm sure you'd know about that. You clean up rather nicely yourself." He patted me on the shoulder as he headed out the door.</p><p>Leaving me there to smile at myself like an idiot by myself for a glorious five seconds.</p><p> </p><p>We pulled out of the driveway and started towards the Meridian Hall, where the gala was held that year. It was my first time going, and Andreas' second. He sat next to me and hummed a showtune as he looked out the window, at the rapidly passing greenery. My fingers drummed against the steering wheel lightly as I thought about the full fifty minutes I had to spend in the car with him. Thankfully, Andreas was good at drumming up conversation and didn't mind too much that I wasn't. And if he did mind, he never showed it. "So I watched the Lolita adaptation from 1997."</p><p>I grimaced, finally turning onto the highway, where we at least saw a car or two pass by. "Why would you do that?"</p><p>He shrugged one shoulder and brushed off some invisible dirt from his thigh. "I was just curious. It wasn't really even explicit, don't worry, just creepy. Also, not terrible. The actress for Lolita was really good."</p><p>I nodded, glancing on the clock to make sure we weren't too late. It was a little close, but we were gonna be about ten minutes or so late to the cocktail part of the event because of traffic. I knew I should've gotten ready faster, but if Andreas noticed or was at all peeved, he never mentioned it to me. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought he didn't care very much about the gala, either. But I did know better. He lived for this stuff. He was born into luxury and champagne and high society. I thought there was no way he'd be dreading the gala even half as much as I was. Besides, he was easy to talk to and people liked him. "The guy was good, too. I can't remember his name but I liked his voice." Andreas continued, unfazed by me not saying anything in response. Because he was barely ever fazed. "But I wish we could look into Lolita's perspective, too. See how she felt about Humbert. One can only imagine."</p><p>I looked at him for a brief second before putting my eyes back on the road, unable to read his tone or body language. "I guess, but would it really be that different aside from the Quilty thing? I mean, wasn't she flirting with him, too?"</p><p>Andreas sat up straighter and scoffed. "That's the thing. She was, like, twelve, Jackson, it's not like she knew what she was doing."</p><p>"But what if she did?" I froze, realizing how that must've sounded. "I mean, I'm not saying the guy... what's his face-"</p><p>"Humbert? Quilty?"</p><p>"Humbert. Right. I'm not saying he was justified at all- and neither was Quilty- because I couldn't even finish 'Lolita' for my literature class in college, but wasn't the relationship mutual?"</p><p>Andreas chewed on his lip in the corner of my eye for a second, another habit he also exhibited when he was thinking. Which was, admittedly, not much. But when he did, it sort of made my heart race. "Yeah, maybe, but the story is told from Humbert's point of view, remember? So he could've easily twisted it up here and there to make him a good guy. Why didn't you discuss that in your literature class?"</p><p>I chuckled to myself, imagining how much Andreas must've thought about this. "I didn't care for literature. Literally almost failed the class with a D minus."</p><p>Andreas cocked a brow while he started digging through my glove compartment. "Jackson Peters, almost failing a class? Didn't think you had it in you."</p><p>I reached over, closing the compartment, the back of my hand brushing against his knees. "What's up with you and snooping through my stuff? You a spy or something?"</p><p>Andreas pfft-ed and fixed his hair as he reopened the glove compartment and started looking through the receipts and other junk. "Sadly, no. Just curious and bored. Are you? That response was almost automatic." I ignored him as I listened to the sound of his hands rustling everything around. He paused as he found one particular slip of paper.</p><p>"What's that?" I asked cautiously as we started hitting some light traffic. When he didn't answer, I poked his thigh. "What's it say?"</p><p>"Says here you purchased a... a twenty-pack of triple XL condoms?"</p><p>"What the-" Face hot, I snatched the receipt, to which Andreas started laughing. At the top, it read <em>Whole Foods. </em>The bastard. But I still couldn't resist smiling as Andreas' honest-to-god laughter filled the car. "It's not funny. Seriously," I tried to say it with a straight face, but couldn't. I allowed myself some laughter, too, half out of relief and half out of humor.</p><p>"You should've seen your <em>face</em>, you were so freaked out," He grinned as he fixed his collar. "Scared I almost found out your secret?"</p><p>I opened my mouth to reply, but decided against it, because what could I even say?</p><p>"Don't worry," Andreas closed his eyes and rested the side of his forehead against the window as we started driving through a more urban area. "I won't tell."</p><p>We drove in silence for a good, comfortable while. Occasionally, I would look over at him, though I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was to see if he was still asleep, if I woke him by hitting a bump too fast or something. Or maybe it was because he looked so peaceful when he rested. Kind of like one of those stone angels you see atop graves in cemeteries. It was also sort of eerie how calm he was. When he was awake, he seemed to raise hell.</p><p>When it started raining as we got closer to Meridian Hall, his eyes fluttered open. "Good morning, sunshine." I glanced at him, and saw Andreas grin ever so slightly in response. "We're maybe ten minutes away. If you need to reapply your makeup or anything, now' s the time."</p><p>"Har-har, Jackson, but little did you know-" He dug into his pocket and fished out what looked like a tube of clear lip gloss, with the smallest tint of pink. "I do need to reapply. Thanks for reminding me."</p><p>Is that why his lips looked so nice when he came downstairs? It didn't even look like he was wearing any. It made me wonder if he had ever worn lip gloss to the facility, if that was part of the reason why I liked how he looked so much. Not like I'd ask.</p><p>When we came to a red light, I couldn't help but watch as he lightly applied the gloss to his bottom lip, in what almost looked like a movement enforced by muscle memory. He knew I was looking, so while he still focused on his reflection in his phone camera, he said, "The trick is to apply a really small amount and to spread it evenly. Otherwise, people will know you're wearing it." He looked up for a fraction of a second to smirk at me. "I bet you didn't know I was wearing lip gloss until just now, huh?"</p><p>"I wasn't looking." I lied.</p><p>Andreas knowingly raised both his eyebrows at me before looking at his phone again, dabbing a little bit of it off. "I wouldn't suppose you'd want to try it, would you?"</p><p>"I'd never be able to pull it off."</p><p>He almost responded before a deafening honk shrieked from behind.</p><p>I stomped on the gas and turned back to smile apologetically at the driver, who was now very annoyed.</p><p>Andreas, putting the tube back in his pocket, examined himself some more in his front camera. His lips weren't inherently shiny or pink or anything, just slightly more noticeable. A thought occurred to me that Henrietta Knightley might notice them. And I felt a sense of what almost felt like jealousy in the pit of my stomach.</p><p>"Have you ever met Mr. Knightley's family?" I suddenly asked.</p><p>But Andreas, ready for anything, answered immediately. "Here and there. Saw his oldest daughter, Henrietta, once when he introduced us. Met his wife, Irene, in the parking lot when she came to pick up Mr. Knightley. And- funny story- I met his son, Ben, at a bank when I first started interning. Why do you ask?"</p><p>I looked at my phone screen, which displayed the GPS: we were four minutes away. "No reason. Just wondering. But Knightley told me Henrietta was... excited to see you."</p><p>In my peripheral, I saw Andreas smile faintly, and I immediately regretted telling him in the first place. An ugly knot formed between my chest and my stomach. "Yeah, I know, she has this little crush on me. It's hilarious." He smirked in my direction. "She's pretty. Kinda. But annoying, though. And kind of air-headed. I had to explain to her what biochemical engineering was."</p><p>It wasn't out of character, how blunt Andreas was being, but it certainly wasn't at all expected. "Couldn't you give her more of a chance?" I offered as the GPS chirped that our location was five hundred feet and to the right. "She's interested in you, which is a start."</p><p>"Right, for you, maybe, but I need a person I can talk to." Andreas adjusted his hair and his suit some more. "And besides, I'm young, aren't I? And good-looking. I'd rather explore my options some more."</p><p>He said that like it was a known fact, like it was so easy to do. I wished I was still young and somewhat good-looking and able to explore my options. I should've done more of that in high school and college. It's not like I regretted choosing Jenn after all, but that I regretted not seeing if there were other people that were better for the both of us. I wasn't being unfaithful or selfish or callous by saying that. Was I?</p><p>The hall was tall and wide, with arched windows and ivy crawling up its sides. It wasn't too impressive on the outside, but with Nakamura on decorating, I knew it was much nicer inside. Andreas insisted we didn't need the valet service and instead found a parking garage nearby.</p><p>Pro: it saved me twenty bucks.</p><p>Con: I had to walk.</p><p>I parked on the third floor of this dimly lit concrete holder of vehicles, and then the both of us started off towards the building, which was then a four minute walk. The rain had died down, and all that remained of it were the slick streets and the smell of wet concrete. We chose to take the stairs instead of the elevator to get down, then crossed a street to a straight way towards the Meridian Hall. No one gave a second look at us as we brushed by in full formal attire. As usual, Andreas struck up the conversation. He briefly walked backwards so he could face me.</p><p>"So you haven't attended an Abernathy Gala before?"</p><p>I shook my head.</p><p>He flipped back around so we could be side by side. I tried to ignore that our shoulders kept brushing. "Well, you better be good at schmoozing. That's all we're really here for."</p><p>"I'm... not."</p><p>"No?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>Andreas wrinkled his nose and rubbed the back of his neck. "That's not good news. Especially since we probably have to get a lot more investors this year."</p><p>I placed my hands in my pockets and gazed carefully at the kid, wondering how easily he could manipulate those around him and if he was going to use that to Abernathy's advantage. "You know about that?"</p><p>"Yeah," He shrugged as he put his hands in his pockets, too. "Mr. Knightley told me about the investigation. I don't know what my father's looking for yet, but knowing him, it's probably a wild goose chase. He has a really weird thing about rumors, by the way."</p><p>I nodded. It didn't make any sense, though. After Project EXM4 was a tremendous failure last year, Knightley and Augustus Adair agreed to bury all evidence of it existing at all. All the documents which even mentioned it were shredded while the security footage which showed the scientists working on or discussing it were purged. The people who worked on it, the four people from Nakamura's team, were all sworn to secrecy about details regarding the process. The only reason I found out about Project EXM4 at all was because as a new addition in the biochem branch, he thought it would be suitable for me to know about it. And by know about it, I meant the name, who worked on it, when the project ended, and what it was called. Nothing more.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> “Couldn’t you... I don’t know, talk to your dad?” I asked sheepishly. “You’re working for the lab now, and he technically owns it, so what’s the point if he pulls funding, right?” <br/></span></p><p>
  <span class="Apple-converted-space">Andreas grimaced slightly. “Well, yeah. I certainly think it’s a stupid move on his part, but...” He shrugged loosely as he watched a pigeon mindlessly peck at the sidewalk. “...it’s not like my father ever really listens to me anyway, so... you know.”<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Apple-converted-space">“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Apple-converted-space">”Yeah.” </span>
</p><p>Immediately sensing an awkward silence, I made an effort to change the subject. "Hey, is that rumor about your dad running a hitman business true, though?" I bumped him with my shoulder, to which he chuckled lightly.</p><p>"I like to think it is." He kicked a discarded can into an alleyway.</p><p>We eventually stopped at the bottom of the steps leading up to the entrance of the Meridian Hall. I took a deep breath and thought about how I just had to get through it and I'd be fine afterward. Andreas, who stood next to me, smirked and said, "What, you scared, Peters?"</p><p>I rolled my eyes, but not maliciously. "You know this is my first time. I don't know anyone and I have reason to be at least a little scared."</p><p>"Relax," He looped his arm through mine as if I was escorting him. I tried not to think about how firm his arm felt. "I'll introduce you to everyone and make sure you don't feel extremely awkward the entire time."</p><p>"How noble of you." I muttered. Before I could stop him, he dragged me up the steps and we entered the building. We were greeted with a grand staircase which diverged into two other staircases in what must've been the lobby. Above our heads were some of those crystal chandeliers you see in about every banquet hall, and the walls were solid blue with repeating gold patterns. A woman in a white suit came towards us and informed us that the Abernathy Gala was up the stairs and to the left. Andreas nodded his thanks as he untangled his arm from mine, to my slight disappointment. He then led me up the stairs and to the left, where I heard laughter and the clicking of glasses. My throat felt dry just standing a few feet away from the double doors which separated us from the real world and that one. The doors were closed, presumably because it was already thirty minutes into cocktail hour and everyone else was actually on time. Before we entered, Andreas turned to me and grinned. "You ready?"</p><p>"I don't really have a choice, do I?"</p><p>"Nope." Andreas fiddled with his hair one last time, then looking over at me, reached out towards mine, too.</p><p>Instinctively, I backed away. "What're you doing?" I sputtered, a blush already rising in my cheeks at just the thought of Andreas Adair touching my hair.</p><p>"You'll thank me later, I promise. Now, hold still." He grinned that devilish grin, and this time, when he reached upward for my hair, I tried not to flinch.</p><p>I pressed my lips together as I felt his fingers gingerly flatten a stray curl above my ear, that entire area starting to tingle with the feeling of Andreas' cold hands. His fingers paused there as he stared at the scar on my brow. It was only a second, but it felt infinite. When he finally pulled away, he met my eyes for a brief second before glancing back toward the door. "There. Now you're ready."</p><p>"As much as I'll ever be." I muttered, turning to face the doors and hoping that if I was blushing, it didn't show.</p><p>Andreas winked at me, his dark eyes reflecting the gold glow of the hall. "Smile, Jackson. It's showtime."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hello! next chapter should be uploaded by the end of may?? MAYbe.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair attempt to survive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair try to put up with each other for an entire evening (and fail miserably).</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A fluid, golden light flooded the hallway as Andreas swung open the door. Momentarily blinded, I raised a hand to cover my eyes, but once inside, I marveled at Nakamura's excellent job at decorating the place.</p><p>Like in the lobby, there was a huge chandelier in the middle of the ceiling, sparkling from every angle, and beyond it, above four sets of double doors, was a neat banner which announced Abernathy's twenty-fifth anniversary with the labs' logo next to it. The walls were dark blue with golden and silver banners adorning them, and even the bars on each end of the wide room had extravagant matching flower arrangements on them. I was startled to reality by a grinning Andreas grabbing my elbow. "C'mon, I see the Knightleys. We should say hi." I looked up and caught sight of stout Mr. Knightley next to a much taller redheaded woman and a teenage girl with flowing light blonde curls in a dark blue cocktail dress. She must've been Henrietta. Andreas was right. She <em>was</em> pretty, with a set of bright blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and a wispy figure. When she caught sight of Andreas and I walking over, she blushed and looked away almost immediately. Knightley smiled broadly at us. "Peters! We were beginning to worry you two wouldn't make it before dinner began!" The red headed woman next to him cleared her throat, unsmiling.<br/>“Ah!" Knightley gestured towards her. "This is my wife, Irene. I don't believe she's met you, Jackson."<br/>"It's a pleasure." I hold out my hand for her to shake, which, after giving me a once-over, she reluctantly does. <em>How the hell did Mr. Knightley marry someone like her?<br/></em>In my peripheral, I noticed Henrietta sheepishly wave at Andreas, who smiled back amicably. "Irene is a fashion designer in Paris," Mr. Knightley continued, unprompted. "I'm lucky she even came back for such a small shindig."<br/>Irene tilted her head, a hint of a smile in her expression, even though her lips didn't move at all. "You know I would never miss it for the world, darling." I shuddered at how cold her voice sounded. I was grateful to be working under the nicer of the Knightleys.<br/>"There he is!" Another blond, this time an unnaturally tall and handsome young man in a black suit almost identical to mine, bounded up to us, throwing an arm around Andreas' shoulders. "Where've you been? Dinner's starting in a few minutes." Andreas shrugged and imperceptibly gave me a look, one I couldn't quite describe nor decipher. "I got a little sidetracked. Also, traffic. You know how it is. Hey, where's the girlfriend?"<br/>"Oh, you mean Liv? Well, funny story..." As they continued their conversation, Ashley Nakamura made her way towards us with Travis Smith in tow. She looked pristine, as usual, with Travis looking about as opposite to that as he could get. The former smiled politely at the Knightleys before placing a gloved hand on my shoulder. "Jackson, we've been looking all over for you, where've you been?"<br/>"Traffic. You know how it is." I shoved my hands in my pockets, matching Travis' posture. She frowned, but shook it off as she grabbed two champagne flutes from a passing waiter, passing me one. "Nevermind, then. I just wanted to thank you for planning so much of the event." I glanced at Andreas, who was having what seemed like a quaint conversation with Henrietta and the boy who I believed to be Henrietta's brother.<br/>"It was nothing, really. I'm just... I'm happy to help."<br/>"And we're happy to have you. Welcome aboard." She held up her flute, which I clicked mine against. As Nakamura took a sip, I had to stop myself from doing the same. <em>I am sober,</em> I reminded myself. Yet another part of me nagged, asking what one flute of champagne would do. But I'd already been down that road once before, and I couldn't do it again.<br/>I briefly distracted myself by gazing around the room and noticed that Travis had struck up a conversation with Irene and Mr. Knightley, which I wouldn't imagine going well.<br/>"I'm sorry to ask," I said, looking at Travis' sleazy smile and disheveled tux. "But are you and Smith... a thing again?" Nakamura grimaced as she saw Irene Knightley frown ever so slightly at something Travis had said.<br/>"God, no." She said it low enough so that he and the Knightleys wouldn't hear. "We're too different." I opened my mouth to answer before feeling someone tug on the elbow of my sleeve.<br/>"Hey, try this." I turned to see Andreas standing there with what looked like two creampuffs coated in honey, impaled on toothpicks. I was suddenly very aware of Nakamura's eyes staring at the back of my skull. I pivoted to give her an apology wave, as if to say "<em>excuse me for a moment</em>" before turning back towards Andreas and narrowing my eyes at him.<br/>"You're not poisoning me, are you?" I cautiously picked up one of the puffs in his hand and inspected it under the light for dramatic flair. He smirked at me.<br/>“Please. If I wanted to, I think I'd choose a much more private space. And a victim who isn't supposed to drive me home tonight." I allow myself to grin at that, but still wait for him to eat his first, just to see if it's good or not. When he bit into it, a bit of cream spilled onto his bottom lip. My immediate thought? <em>Jesus fucking christ.</em> He then swiped it onto his thumb and licked it off. I may have been watching a little too intently, but the corner of his lip only curved slightly when he noticed me watching.</p><p>Noted.</p><p>He made eye contact for what seemed like a fraction of a second too long. "I should get back to Henrietta and Ben."<br/>I caught sight of the Knightley siblings, who were now standing near the center of the room, under the chandelier. Luckily, they seemed preoccupied. "But I'll see you at dinner, yeah?" Andreas patted me on my shoulder before walking off. That small interaction was enough to make me feel somewhat giddy, and I allowed myself to. I looked down and realized I was still holding the creampuff, then popping it into my mouth, I couldn't stop thinking about Andreas'. The way he did... <em>that</em>, it seemed almost deliberate. I tried to shake the image from my head as I turned back around at Nakamura, who was watching Travis as if he were a five year old at a playground.<br/>“I'm sorry,” I said. “-what was it we were discussing?"<br/>"Oh, no worries,” She waved me off. “I- I believe it was something about Travis and I being too different for one another?" She straightened her black leather belt, almost as if she was uncomfortable.<br/>"Right. Well. Uh, I'm not an expert or anything, but I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing," I offered, remembering how, when I met Jenn, she was an English major while I studied chemistry.<br/>Nakamura shrugged with one shoulder as she took a delicate sip of her champagne, her expression unreadable as she focused her gaze on me again.<br/>"It is when the two of you shouldn't be together at all. I mean, sure, for a few years, Travis and I were able to ignore our major differences, but I had to come back to reality at some point and realize that we couldn't pretend to be happy and compatible forever, you know?" I nodded, her words only processing one at a time. "Besides," She drank the finishing sip of her champagne as I heard Andreas laugh at something Henrietta's brother said in the distance. "At some point, I felt like I was only staying with Travis in order to prove a point." Involuntarily, I thought of Jenn and Ari.<br/>“What <em>point</em>?" I muttered, noticing how Nakamura's shoulders were more tense than usual. Perhaps Travis was trying to get back with her or this whole discussion was just bringing up bad memories. Either way, neither of us were comfortable.<br/>"Well, I'm not sure how to describe it, but we'd been together for a few years, and I wanted to see it through, y'know? It's like..." She flung a black lock of hair behind her shoulder. Placing the empty flute on a passing waiter's tray, she continued seamlessly. "It's like feeling obligated to stay with someone because you've been with them for so long. That, along with the fact that I felt like I needed to settle? It didn't mix well."<br/>"Huh." Was all I could say in response. Because I did get it. I got it too well. I remembered my doubts about marrying Jenn and as usual, felt immensely guilty about it. After all, I loved her and she loved me and we had a daughter together who loved us both. I couldn't just throw that all away because I didn't feel utterly amazing about it.<br/>"I assume you aren't married, Jackson?"<br/>I blinked at her, mildly offended. "Um. Why?"<br/>Nakamura pointed at my left hand, still holding the champagne flute she offered me minutes ago. "I've never seen you wear a ring. But based on your reaction alone, I'd say you're not."<br/>"Well, not yet, anyways. I'm going to. Next year." Which was something that was weird to admit out loud. I'd never had to really do it more than once or twice. Nakamura nodded, staring off at something in the distance.<br/>"I suppose a congratulations is in order."<br/>“Thank you."<br/>"Are you..." She twisted her lips around, as if thinking about how to word a question. <em>Are you happy</em>? The elevator rushed back to me, and I couldn't help but remember that I still had no answer to that question. "Are you going to drink that?" She pointed at the still-full flute in my left hand.<br/>"Oh. I guess not." I handed it off to her, to which she quickly downed it and disposed of the glass like she'd done with the previous one in ten seconds, flat. Before I could even process how much of Nakamura I didn't really know about, she grabbed Travis' arm and steered him away before he could do anymore damage with the Knightleys.<br/>"Anyways, be careful, Peters. You seemed to really connect to what I was saying about needing to prove a point."</p><p><br/>A few minutes later, they opened the four sets of double doors at the other side of the room and we started flooding into the dining hall, which was on three floors which all overlooked a stage. It matched the other room, flowers and all. Even though I knew I should've been focusing on Nakamura's decorating and all the work she put into it, I couldn't help but think about what would happen if I broke up with Jenn. She'd be crushed, no doubt, and so would Ari. But after that, she'd be able to find someone better. Maybe I'd see Ari on weekends or vice versa.<br/>I found my table and sat at it, no sign of Andreas yet, but across from me were some other department heads, including Nakamura, who didn't look at me, perhaps on purpose. I could get a cat if I wasn't with Jenn anymore. We'd get our own places. Maybe she would move back to Chicago or move in with her mom in Sacramento. Ari would choose to stay with her or with me, and I don't know which one of us she would choose. I allowed myself for a moment to be selfish, but quickly snapped out of it. Because I wasn't that terrible of a human being, and I knew that I didn't want to hurt them. I wanted to protect them, and I loved them as much as they loved me. Yet I allowed myself to pretend, just for a few minutes. Because that didn't hurt. It couldn't. Right?<br/>Before appetizers were served, Andreas took his seat next to me, sighing. "Miss me?"<br/>I put my phone back in my pocket and rolled my eyes at him. "Didn't even notice you were gone." He clutched at his chest, pretending to be hurt.<br/>"Christ, Jackson, I didn't know you could be so cold." Nakamura briefly waved at Andreas, who smiled back before turning to me again.<br/>"Henrietta and Ben are absolutely exhausting," he told me as he fussed over his hair.<br/>"They seem to like you." It came out as more of an accusation than a statement.<br/>”Is... that a problem, Peters?" He fixed me with a curious gaze as servers around us placed borscht in front of everybody at the table. He didn't even blink when his came. I didn't like it. I didn't like how he could just look at me and <em>know</em>. I wanted to see what he thought, to see how much of me he knew about. A little too hastily, I grabbed the soup spoon and took a sip of the borscht, trying to think of something, anything else but his eyes focused on me. He looked away after what felt like hours to make small talk with a biomedical director next to him. I had a problem. I knew I did. The longer it went unaddressed, the worse it would get. If Jenn was here, this wouldn't be happening. The only reason it was, I rationalized, was because she wasn't and because I hadn't been without her in years. I was just having weird withdrawals and taking it out on Andreas because he was near me. It couldn't have been anything else. It shouldn't have, really.<br/>We managed to get through the soup course, after which Mr. Knightley decided to address everyone on stage. With his broad smile and even broader shoulders, he grabbed hold of the hanging microphone as if he’d practiced. On second thought, he probably did, him being the eccentric little man he was. "Welcome to Abernathy Labs' Twenty-Fifth Annual Anniversary Gala! Now, I know all of you just want to get to the second course already- I know <em>I</em> do-" A sea of polite laughter rose around us. "But I just wanted to acknowledge the fine people behind this magnificent event! Ashley Nakamura, Sherry Wallace, Joshua Patel, and Jackson Peters are the heads responsible for everything around us, so could we give them a huge round of applause?" I felt people looking at us, but tried to shake off the feeling and smile politely as everybody clapped from surrounding tables. As Knightley continued to drawl on, as everyone else focused their eyes on him, Andreas leaned over to me, so close I could smell his cologne and feel the warmth of his breath.<br/>"You didn't answer me." Chills crept up my spine as he whispered in my ear, his lips almost close enough to graze it. I didn't move away, only slightly turned my head in his direction.<br/>"I didn't mean to say it like that."<br/>"Well, be careful with that sort of thing." Andreas grinned slightly, a shadow of his usual smirk. "Tone is a very... <em>powerful</em> thing." I didn't like it. I didn't like how his emphasis on one certain word made my mind go haywire, to places it most certainly should not have. I couldn't help but wonder... but picture what it would be like to feel his fingernails dig into the back of my neck as he whispered softly into my ear, my hands against the small of his back. My hips pressing against his. <em>Stop it</em>, I scolded myself. <em>Stop. He's sixteen. You're damn well more than twice his age, and this doesn't </em>mean<em> anything,</em> I reminded myself. He was just messing around. He didn't understand what he was doing. He was harmless, an innocent child. I was being disgusting. He leaned away from me, his eyes glinting in the dim light as he looked towards the stage. Andreas combed his hair back with his fingers, though it was still perfect, as usual. I blinked, hard, trying to get the conjured images out of my head, but once stuck there, they lingered somewhere in the back of my mind. I admitted to myself and myself only that I wanted to run my hands through his hair. I wanted to lay my head against his and feel his warmth seep into me. Why did he talk to me this way? Why did he act like this? I wanted to believe that he acted this way around everybody, that I wasn't special, but I'd seen him interact with others, whether it be Mr. Knightley, Nakamura, or even Henrietta. And he didn't act in any way the same around them. I started to believe that he was messing with me.<br/>That he simply wanted to get a reaction out of me or make me believe that he was flirting with me because he would get a kick out of it. That was the only way. My fears were only consolidated when I felt the hem of my pant leg shift upwards a little, followed shortly thereafter by the sensation of someone else's cool, smooth skin rubbing against my shin, then deliberately circling around to my calf. I knew almost immediately that it was Andreas' ankle running against my leg, slowly and carefully. Fuck.<br/>I glanced at him, expecting to find a smug grin, but instead seeing that his gaze was still onstage, like nothing was happening. His eyes flickered to me for a moment, only confirming my suspicions with the mischievous glint in them. Fuck. I felt blood rush to my face and neck. I wanted to tell him <em>don't do that</em>. <em>You don't know what you're getting into. And worst of all, you're only giving me hope</em>. However, in such a formal setting, it was difficult to even breathe, let alone think about confronting my teenage intern about his alluring actions which I may have been misinterpreting in the first place. But this... his soft copper skin rubbing against my leg, this was going too far, wasn't it? I wanted to ignore it, but I couldn't. The tingling sensation that crawled across my arms every time his ankle adjusted to rub against my skin in a different way, it almost made me shudder. <em>Christ</em>. I took a deep, cool breath as Knightley kept talking ahead of us, then, my voice low, I pulled Andreas' sleeve towards me, causing his arm to jerk in my direction.<br/>"<em>Stop that</em>." My voice was hoarse, much more hoarse than it should've been. He tilted his head at me, an almost endearing gesture now. “Stop what?" He asked innocently. His ankle started to rub against my calf even harder. Slower. Even if he didn't know what he was doing before, he knew what he was doing now. He knew what he was doing to me. Having his skin against mine, even though it was just his ankle against my lower leg- it was almost too much. It made my stomach churn and my imagination run wild, knowing how soft his skin was, knowing how it felt against mine. "You <em>know</em> what." I hissed, my face hot. "Oh," Andreas moved in closer, the corners of his lips now curved upward in a wicked, subtle grin as he purred his next words. "you mean <em>this</em>?" His ankle jerked higher, now firmly against my leg. Fuck. I couldn't do this. I stood, suddenly, startling Andreas and a few others at the table. "I need to get some air" was all I muttered before I damn near bolted out of there. I felt like I was suffocating. I ignored everyone's concerned glances as I made my way out. In the distance, Andreas excused himself and said he was going to check up on me as I exited the double doors, leading back into the ballroom that held cocktail hour, which was wonderfully empty, then out of the main double doors into the hall, and into the lobby, which was now eerily silent.</p><p>I stopped at the bottom step of the grand staircase and heard the slighter set of footsteps come to a stop not too far behind me. "You didn't have to follow me." The words tumbled out of me in a sort of growl as I gripped the ornate handrail next to me for support.<br/>"I know." Andreas' voice behind me was almost threatening. It was a reminder that I couldn’t get away from these terrible thoughts after I'd had them. That he would always be there, in the deepest, darkest crevices of my mind, watching me. Taunting me. Reminding me.</p><p><br/>"Then why <em>did</em> you?" My feet wouldn't move. I couldn't force myself away, but I couldn't force myself to face him, either. I stared down at the faintly patterned carpet as I heard him take one step closer, one stair downward. He didn't answer verbally, but that small, simple movement had already told me enough. Those few inches closer to me which he moved was an answer in itself, and I couldn't handle it. In that moment, it was like we were back in the elevator again. Although there were only a few feet of space between us, it felt like an impossibly far distance. It was a void of emptiness that I wanted him to close. I knew that he considered it from the way his eyes didn't once leave me. But he didn't, and in those few seconds of what I could only call an opening, I forced my foot forward and made my way out of Meridian Hall and into the cool, smoky night.<br/><br/>"Jackson, wait."</p><p>I turned around and found Andreas Adair standing behind me, his dark eyes the only thing I could see. "You should stay." When I didn't answer, he moved a step closer. "Look, if it was me, I can stop." I felt something rise within me, but I couldn't tell what it was. It was like fire, begging to spill out of me. "Jackson," He repeated, his voice more desperate somehow. "Just come back inside." I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came to mind. I shook my head. I couldn't come back inside if he was there. If he was next to me. If I had to see him again. "Jackson? Are you okay?" He pressed his lips together, only making me remember how transfixed I was with them in the car on the way here, on their shape and texture, and it felt like something just <em>snapped</em>.<br/>"No, I'm not okay, you were <em>rubbing</em> your foot against my leg in there and I couldn't fucking breathe-"<br/>"Jackson, I was... that wasn't... Jackson, I was just messing around, it's not like that <em>meant</em> anything." The words echoed and bounced around in my head. So I was just making myself hopeful. This was just his weird way of playing some kind of prank, this wasn't... Andreas wrinkled his brows and took one step closer, making me immediately step back. A car drove past, the headlights illuminating his eyes, which now widened in realization. "Unless..."<br/>I squeezed my eyes shut, like that would help matters. Fuck. He knew. He fucking knew. It was only a matter of time, but I didn't want anyone to see this, I didn't want anyone to know. "Jackson-"<br/>"Don't call me that." I breathed.<br/>"What, your fucking name?"<br/>"You know what I mean, <em>intern</em>," And once I started off on this road, I couldn't stop. "-so stop playing <em>innocent</em> like you don't know what you're doing when you <em>clearly</em> do!"</p><p><br/>Andreas flinched and slowly, hesitantly, took a step back. His eyes were wide but other than that, he was unreadable. I knew I'd already said enough. But I could not, would not stop. "There's gotta be a reason, right?” I knew I had gone too far. But I kept going, kept <em>saying</em> what I needed to. “Why me? Why am I the one you chose to mess with? Is this some kind of sick form of entertainment to you? Do you think it's fun to do it? <em>Why</em>?"</p><p><br/>I knew that the occasional passerby and pedestrian was staring at us now, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Andreas looked at me with the same eyes I'd seen for about a month now, but they held a completely different tone to them now.</p><p>He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again and shook his head when he realized that there was nothing to say. No excuses. No snide remarks. No clever comebacks. Andreas Adair shoved his hands in his pockets, turned around, and walked back into the building, leaving me outside, alone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>next chapter should be uploaded before the end of june! apologies, but i’ve been a little busy with test preparation so please be patient with me! thank you all!</p><p>p.s. every chapter that is divisible by six will likely be an exposition chapter on one of the characters, and therefore somewhat shorter than the usual chapters! this just makes it easier to know about one’s past, especially some side characters who rarely get any appreciation!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. A Brief History of Jennifer Gallagher</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jenn Gallagher is more than what meets the eye.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jennifer Gallagher was born on a warm summer morning in a hospital in Sacramento, California. Her younger brother, James Gallagher Junior, was born on the same day, only four years later.</p><p>Their parents are James Gallagher Sr. and Victoria Gomez. James ran a quaint bookshop near their home while Victoria worked as a sous chef at an upscale restaurant in the city until she retired a few years ago. This was how the two met: James was thirty-seven, and although his mother worried about him never getting married up until then, he didn't mind being alone with his bookshop. After all, that's always how it was for James. Regardless, James was set up with a nice woman from his mother's church and he took her out to a date at the restaurant Victoria worked at. She was twenty-one at the time, and, being unable to afford college, decided to take a job at a restaurant close by to her family's apartment in order to support her younger siblings. Their father had died from lung cancer at least five years before then, and their mother struggled to carry on. She had been getting cooking lessons from the current sous chef during the day and washing dishes by night in hopes of becoming a real chef one day.</p><p>One fateful night in September, as Victoria was taking out the trash, she found a man in a navy sweater vest behind the restaurant, muttering to himself. Thinking he was another one of the coke addicts she had to fend off most nights, she shooed him away only to find that he was a rather harmless fella who was only nervous for his date. It was his first date ever and he explained that he felt an immense pressure to have it go well in order to get his mother off his back. Briefly, Victoria gave him an inspirational message about how everything would be okay and about how there were plenty of fish in the sea, then promptly went back inside to work. That got the ball rolling. James went ahead with his date, and although it went okay, he already had his sights set on the woman he met near the restaurant's dumpster earlier that evening.</p><p>Eventually, the two went out, and got married two months later. James married Victoria because he believed he was in love for the first time, but Victoria knew she wasn't in love with James. She liked him enough, of course, but first and foremost, she needed James' money to support herself and her family.</p><p>Victoria had a hard time conceiving. The first time she <em>did</em> happen to get pregnant after years of trying, she was twenty-five. However, she lost the pregnancy. Victoria and James never got over it, and James agreed that they shouldn't try again until the both of them were ready. She didn't get pregnant with Jennifer until she was nearly thirty-five. Jenn was a difficult baby to deliver, however, and James was afraid that if they had another child, Victoria wouldn't pull through next time. When James Junior came around, though, she <em>did</em> manage to pull through, if barely.</p><p>Jennifer grew up to be generally smart, and passed this on to her daughter, Arabella, who, like her mother, started talking in articulate, complete sentences by the time she was four. James Jr. did the same, with some help from their father, who let them play around in the bookshop when they were too young to stay at home by themselves. This was where Jenn found her love of books, to her father's delight. James Jr. didn't share the same affinity, but still found other things in common with his sister, like how soft they thought the beanbag chairs in the children's corner were and how they both liked playing pranks on their father. In the siblings' youth, they were close. Jennifer and her younger brother were able to attend a local primary school together for a few years, but when Jennifer was twelve, James Sr. and Victoria decided that between never seeing each other during the day, consistently arguing over the care of their two children, and Victoria never being able to love James the same way he loved her, it was best to get a divorce.</p><p>James Junior stayed with James Sr. on the side of Sacramento where the bookshop was, and Jenn moved with her mother to the other side of Sacramento, in a house close to the restaurant. Although James Sr. would sometimes let James Jr. stay the night with Jenn and vice versa, by the time Jennifer was eighteen and James Jr. was fourteen, they didn't know each other at all, and went their separate ways.</p><p> </p><p>James Sr.'s bookshop became a chain, with a few locations throughout Northern California. He and James Jr. moved to San Francisco, where one of the more successful shops were located, and left the Sacramento location's bookstore under the care of a family friend. Jennifer and Victoria haven't talked to either of the Jameses since.</p><p>In high school and middle school, Jennifer hung with the sporty crowd. She herself was on the girls' swim team for both schools, and during the time, won a few district medals that can still be seen hanging up in a display case in her mother's house. She met her first boyfriend at a swim meet when she was fourteen, then had at least seven more before graduating high school. The longest she dated a guy was for almost two years, and this special sap was Nick Michaelson. He was on the men's swim team in high school. Although Nick was sweet and sorta good-looking, the only reason they stayed together for so long was because Jenn didn't want to be single. The girls in her grade always made it seem like it was a bad thing not to have some boy drooling over you at all times, and since Jenn was never one to go against social norms, she stayed with Nick until her freshman year of college. The only reason she happened to meet Jackson was because Nick wanted to go to Johns Hopkins to become a surgeon, so she came with him. They broke up because Jenn met Jackson Peters and decided that she didn't want to be stuck with Nick her entire life. In fact, she didn't have to. Jackson opened up a new path for her, a possibility for the life she had now. Every time Jennifer was with someone new, however, she had trouble adjusting. This is, of course, normal in any new relationship. But Jenn was different. Every single boyfriend she had, she molded herself to become a perfect girlfriend, someone they needed and wanted. She doesn't realize she's doing it, but she's always been afraid of being the James. She was afraid of loving and devoting herself to someone who didn't want her back, who would never want her back. And so, Jenn became the friendly, lovable woman who Jackson needed to lift him up because he was always down. Of course, she became a little more comfortable with him, and so, shed the facade for a bit here and there, but otherwise, she's unsure of whether she had a personality to begin with or if she simply adjusted herself constantly to what other people needed.</p><p> </p><p>Jennifer and Jackson moved to Chicago and stayed there for a good while, comfortable with one another. If Jackson taught her anything, it was affection. Jennifer's parents didn't verbally demonstrate affection at all, but the few years Jackson had with his parents, Ray and Stacy, were enough to help him learn how to care about other people. He learned about how parents gave their kids endearing nicknames (Ray had a habit of calling Jackson a few things, like "kiddo," "rockstar," "beanstalk," "Jackie-boy," and "little Peters" from time to time,) how husbands and wives called each other "honey" and "dear," and how people called their best friends "fuckers" or anything else mildly offensive. In subtle ways, Jennifer started to learn, too. This was how Jackson and Jennifer started referring to each other more as "hon" or "honey" than their actual names and how Arabella started to sometimes be called Ari.</p><p>Since Jenn never called her parents anything other than "mom" or "dad," though, Ari only said "daddy" and "mommy" maybe once or twice a day and no more. Jenn taught her to say "mom" and "dad" and so, that's what Ari learned. Because of this and so many other reasons, Arabella reminded Jennifer of herself all the time. She certainly took after Jennifer more than Jackson. But Jennifer kept on loving the both of them just the same. Like Jackson, she wanted a complete family. She wanted togetherness, something she could never have as a teenager and Jackson could never have as a child.</p><p>Two souls, searching, yet neither can truly obtain what they seek.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so, a bit of an early update, but look, it’s 2 am and im feelin exposition-y, so here you go! sorry the brief history chapters (the chapter w/ numbers divisible by six, like chapter 6, 12, 18, etc.) are so short, but there’s only so much to write without feeling too draggy! (and imma try to make it up to y’all w a long next update next time, but no promises yet!) anyways, next update should be up, like, dunno, probably somewhere in mid-june? my sleep schedule and upload schedule are kind of nonexistent with quarantine and exams and all, so.... im so sorry</p><p>love y’all though! keep leaving kudos and comments, im happy to answer questions!<br/>also if this chapter has a few errors, forgive me, they should be edited out when i wake up tomorrow.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Jackson Peters does some reflection</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters gets angsty. No one knows what’s going on with Andreas Adair.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so this kinda took awhile, but hopefully it was worth it?<br/>also, I’m gonna start leaving songs that inspired this series as a whole / my favorite songs in the beginning notes (starting next chapter) because why the hell not?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Fuck," I muttered it to myself quietly at first, then progressively louder as I made my way back to the parking garage. I didn't want anyone to know about... <em>that</em>. No one should've known, and now he did. Of all people to know, why did it have to be him?</p><p>One part of me insisted that maybe he didn't know, that maybe my secret was safe, but another, more truthful part of me told me that this couldn't have been true. That there was no way he didn't know about how I thought of him. Besides, why else would he react that way? What else could he have realized that would've been so relevant and jarring that he was the one to shut his mouth and leave for once?</p><p>"Fuck!" I kicked a trash bin, which tipped over onto the curb, the bags flowing out. Flies scattered for a moment before recuperating at the bags of disposed goods and waste. The whole scene reflected how it felt to be seen by him. To potentially be seen by others. And frankly, I deserved to feel that way. I was being despicable, and disgusting, and everything I looked down upon before. I should've denied it, should have spoken up and said something for myself, for once, but what the hell could I have defended myself with? How could I have proved him wrong? The way he looked at me before he walked away- it's what broke me most. This boy, who I'd spent weeks talking to, getting closer to, probably wanted nothing to do with me now.</p><p><em>What if he told Knightley?</em> I wondered as I unlocked my truck.</p><p><em>What if Jenn found out?</em> I slid into the driver's seat and sighed as I locked the doors and turned my key in the ignition.</p><p><em>What if I got fired?</em> I closed my eyes and leaned against the headrest behind me. </p><p>I would deserve it. All of it. I didn't even understand why he was so attractive to me in my mind- he was both a male and a teenager, for fuck's sake- I'd never liked either demographic in my life, had I? At least, not this much. And Andreas- all those moments in my office, in the car, all the words exchanged- they probably meant nothing now.</p><p>I don't remember driving out of the parking garage or even driving out of the city, but it happened. As passing streetlights illuminated the seat next to me, where he sat only hours ago, my mind raced. I knew that at some point, someone would find out. I had hoped that wouldn't be the case, but obviously, that was me being an optimist. I didn't even know where I was going right then. I just kept driving. Not even in the direction of my apartment or Andreas' house, but just away. Anywhere else. As if I could get away from my shame. Yet it only grew stronger as the hours passed and as I drove further. I just kept going, turning here and there, just whatever direction happened to feel right at the time. All the while, a deafening silence surrounded me like a thick fog, blanketing the streets, almost suffocating them. I kept going and the cars which usually flew by me started to wane, until eventually, I was on a barren street with only my truck and my thoughts. Shame eventually turned to guilt, then doubt. Because I should've felt more guilty than shameful, right? After all, my thoughts were infringing on Andreas' privacy in one way or another, and for another thing, it was downright a terrible thing to do. Yet, no one can control their thoughts. Sometimes thoughts, no matter how dirty, or violent, or immoral, just sort of pop into your head. And it wasn't my fault that this happened to me. Or that it happened one too many times. I spiraled. I started to wonder if I was actually having suggestive thoughts about Andreas and not just being jealous or resentful towards him. I willed myself to believe that perhaps this was true, and let my brain rest. I glanced at the time on my phone and found that it was nearly eleven. That meant Andreas probably had to find another ride home. It was so, so stupid of me to just leave, wasn't it? It was selfish, too, and not to mention impulsive. As usual, I ran away from his problems like a damn coward, refusing to face the problem head-on. That was the status quo then, and always would be. Because I never learned how to deal with myself, so I just kept running, thinking that would help me get away from the issue when the real issue was me all along.</p><p> </p><p>By the time I got back to the apartment, it was almost one in the morning. Work the next day for me wasn't until noon, so getting up wasn't necessarily an issue, it was sleeping that was. Since Jenn left, I hadn't gotten much sleep, mostly because A) I wasn't used to sleeping without her or Ari next to me, and B) there were a lot of things keeping me awake. It wasn't just Andreas, but other questions that started to arise when I was by myself all the time, such as: what is my biological mother doing now? Was she even still alive? Or my biological father, for that matter? When was the last time I had the truck checked, maintenance-wise? What if someone broke in and killed me? Well. If that last thing happened, it would've been somewhat welcome. Before then, the only question that bugged me was whether or not Jenn wanted to actually get married, and if she kept putting it off and making me think it was both our ideas. Right then, it was: what the hell do I do know? Because I still had to go to work tomorrow. Andreas easily could've told the entire table the reason I left and all of them, including Ashley Nakamura, could know about my little secret and they could've been judging me about it. I didn't see why he wouldn't.</p><p>I imagined Andreas, with a disgusted look in his eye, telling Henrietta and Ben Knightley, saying, "Can you believe that Jackson Peters, that guy who clung onto me all night, is physically and sexually attracted to me? How creepy is that?"</p><p>And I wouldn't blame him. I would've done the exact same thing if I were in his shoes. But then why did my chest tighten when I imagined him doing it? Why did I feel like he'd betrayed me?</p><p> </p><p>I laid in bed, tossing and turning for hours before deciding to get up and go for a jog because it was almost sunrise at that point and there was no way I'd get a decent amount of sleep before I had to come into work. I put on the first pair of shorts and shoes I found, and started going the minute my foot hit the pavement outside. It had been almost a week since I went for a morning jog, what with all the gala planning, but I didn't get as nearly tired as I expected to. With my heavy metal playlist blaring in my left ear and the sidewalks generally empty at this ungodly hour, I was almost at peace. I decided to go on my long route, through Magnolia Park and around the other side to get back to the apartment. It took about a week to make the route, but it was surprisingly easy to navigate, even if the sky was still a dark bluish-gray. That was lucky, considering I could barely concentrate on what direction I was going and just let my legs carry me by muscle memory. It was almost like how driving felt last night, except I stayed somewhat grounded. In a car, it was easy to just turn the steering wheel and press the brake every once in a while, lost in your thoughts. Running, though, almost forced you to stay alert. My feet pounded against the concrete in an awfully familiar way, the sheer force of it pushing through your calves and your heart. It always hurts a little, but it was refreshing, too, in a way. I entered through the North entrance of Magnolia Park, where the two birch trees stood outside of the "Welcome to Magnolia Park" sign. As I weaved through the stone pathways, around the various fountains and playgrounds, I admired the leaves turning color and the air growing more crisp. I closed my eyes, only briefly, and identified the aroma of autumn settling in. Then: something earthy, and almost... familiar. My eyes flew open, and I stopped to gaze in every direction, because I knew that smell. I knew who it was. He wasn't there, though. I knew that. But I still desperately tried to find a visual, a sign that he had been. A blond man rapidly jogged past in a blue hoodie, unaware of my search. He was the only other person there. I watched as he disappeared down the trail, not knowing who he was, but knowing that he wasn't him. When I breathed in again, I couldn't catch that scent again. It was gone. Or it was never there to begin with.</p><p> </p><p>I went straight to my office at work, not bothering to wave at anybody, not bothering to give a polite "good afternoon," not willing to interact at all. I didn't even say hi to Della as I walked in. It felt like everyone was looking at me and talking behind my back. It felt like everybody knew, and everybody was calling me a disgusting human being. I didn't want to even think about it. I found that my office door was already unlocked, but Andreas wasn't in there. I or the janitor probably just left it unlocked on accident or something. I didn't know why I expected anything else. I set my things down next to my desk and logged into my computer. Just as I was about to check my email, I heard a sharp knock at my door. I jumped in my seat before managing a somewhat dignified "come in."</p><p>"Hey, Peters." Nakamura let herself in, her tone and expression completely neutral. I couldn't help but think of the worst-case scenario. She knew, she had to. "I just needed to ask you to email me one of the old data files for Project 7P3 from last month." She crossed her arms and sat in the chair across from my desk. "I would pull them up from my own computer, but mine's been buggy lately."</p><p>Oh.</p><p>"Is..." I swallowed a nervous lump in my throat. "That's all, right?"</p><p>Nakamura fixed me with a slightly skeptical look. "I believe so? Unless you think I'm forgetting something?"</p><p>"Well, no, of course not," I quickly added, starting to look up the file from my documents. "I mean, that's completely fine."</p><p>She tightened her ponytail, her eyes still asking a multitude of questions. "Right."</p><p>So she <em>didn't</em> know. Unless she was just a really good actress. That was a possibility. The more I considered it, the more typos I made as I went, and the shakier my hand got. I accidentally clicked on the wrong file, and then had to backtrack and convert the Project 7P3 file to a format that could be emailed, and as the progress bar continued, my palms started to sweat. She was looking at the back of my monitor, but she could've been judging me harshly as the seconds ticked. Suddenly, I just couldn't take it anymore.</p><p>"I'm sorry I had to leave the gala early. I don't know if Andreas told you, but I... um... I..." I blurted at first, but didn't know how to clue her in to what I was saying next. She had to know what I was hinting at her to talk about, right?</p><p>Nakamura blinked at me. Then she uncrossed her arms and let them rest in her lap.</p><p>"What- Oh. You don't feel... <em>guilty</em> about it, do you?"</p><p>Ah, crap. She did know. Everyone must've known at this point. I poised myself to speak, but couldn't find the words. How the hell was I supposed to find the words to explain myself to her? And why did she seem to be defending me? She was supposed to be telling me I was supposed to feel terrible about it, not ask me if I did, all while assuming I didn't. That's just not how this type of situation works. I was supposed to be in jail or put in a watch list. Probably. Unless she understood, somehow? Was she extremely understanding or... like me? But if they knew, then why was I still employed?</p><p>"Peters?" She stood and snapped her fingers in front of my face, bringing me back to the present, where I was sitting in my office and Ashley Nakamura was asking me a question. "You don't feel guilty about leaving early, do you?" She repeated, leaning forward slightly as her face crinkled in genuine concern. I wondered how often she looked at Travis with the same expression. </p><p>"Oh." Well, then, that really changes things. "Um, well, of course I do."</p><p>"You shouldn't." Nakamura tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I mean, you were feeling sick, right?"</p><p>Slowly, I nodded, because she was almost more confident than I was, and if the real reason I left was because I felt sick, then I guess that had to become the truth. "Did... Andreas tell you that?"</p><p>"Yes?" My coworker looked at me like I was crazy. Which, in all fairness, I was, just in a completely different sense. "He said you were feeling sick and wanted to go home early."</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>She narrowed her eyes at me. "Why, was that a front?"</p><p>"I mean- uh, no?" I cleared my throat and tried again, firmly. "No."</p><p>I imagined Andreas, composed as ever, walking back into the dining hall with his shoulders back and his hands in his pockets, taking his seat next to my empty chair, which would stay that way for the rest of the evening. I imagined his easy smile, how smoothly he fibbed when people asked where I'd gone, and his laugh when Benjamin would say something mildly funny to him and Henrietta after dinner. How the evening would go in and he'd lie for me over and over like nothing happened. But why?</p><p>"You seem completely fine now." Nakamura said in a mildly accusatory fashion.</p><p>"Yeah. I got some rest."</p><p>She eyed my rumpled hair and the dark circles under my eyes. "...Right. So... my file?"</p><p>I glanced back at my monitor, which dutifully reported that the email to Ashley Nakamura had been sent. "It should be in your inbox."</p><p>"Thanks." She straightened and headed for the door, then paused halfway. I tensed, possibilities running through my head. What now? I thought. "You know..." Her delicate fingers drummed against the handle. "You know you could tell me if something's troubling you, right?"</p><p>She looked almost like Mom when she glanced over her shoulder like that, her brow creased. Like when she would check up on me at night and tell me to go to bed early, that I would do fine on the history test tomorrow.</p><p>"Yeah." I answered weakly. "Thanks."</p><p> </p><p>Somewhere within me, I hoped that Andreas would pop his head in my door and hand me a file from the lab or sit on the edge of my desk just to annoy me. But I knew that there wasn't a chance of that anymore, not after what happened. And he didn't show the entire day. For a brief, terrifying second, I wondered if I'd never see him again. It would've been for the best, to tell the truth. I would've been able to get my life back on track without him in it. But then I thought about the way the light caught his hair and the way his eyes seemed to dance in the shadows. I thought about his daily smirk and how much he loved to fluster me and how his ankle felt against my leg and I couldn't help but know that from that point on, if he choose to stay, to continue down this path, he'd prove to be a hazard to the both of us. I didn't want to just let him. I wanted to fight back and take back control of myself, but every time I closed my eyes, I couldn't stop seeing him. How foolish had I been to let this go on for so long? How sick?</p><p>Another knock at the door frightened me to my senses. This person, however, didn't wait for a reply before opening the door.</p><p>It was Mr. Knightley. He gave me a winning smile and strode over to clap me on the back. "Nakamura told me you were feeling better. I'm glad to hear it."</p><p>"Thank you, sir." I sat up straighter and tried to flatten down my aggressively curly hair. Thank god he wasn't one of the strict bosses that paid much attention to physical appearance.</p><p>"And it's great, considering the interns' retreat coming up!"</p><p>I froze. "The... what?"</p><p>Mr. Knightley's bushy gray eyebrows rose about halfway up his forehead. "No one told you about it? It was even in the welcome packet I gave you when you first got here!"</p><p>"Oh." That packet may or may not have gotten recycled the minute after I lightly skimmed it. You'd think a guy would learn. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Knightley, it must've... slipped my mind."</p><p>The stout man in front of me didn't miss a beat. "No, no. I should've been mentioning it to you long before now. See, the interns' retreat is an annual thing we do after the interns' first few weeks at Abernathy. Each intern- there's thirty-three of them this year- will choose a person of the same gender who already works at Abernathy to 'sponsor' them. That is to say, mentor them. And then they'll share rooms- which is more for safety reasons than anything else- and get to know each other and understand it's like working at Abernathy. But between you and me," He winked. "It's an excuse to get the interns out of the labs for a weekend."</p><p>Because of course this is what our apparent limited funding is going to. Knightley still wasn't letting anyone else know that we were running low on them.</p><p>"Sounds fun." I managed through a fake enthusiastic expression. "It'll be great to get some peace and quiet around here again."</p><p>"Oh, Andreas didn't tell you?"</p><p>Ah, shit.</p><p>"Tell me what?"</p><p>"He chose you to be his sponsor."</p><p>Ah, <em>shit.</em></p><p>All I could say was, "oh." He must had chosen me before the gala incident ever happened. In that case, the poor kid.</p><p>"You could sure show a little more excitement, Peters." Mr. Knightley huffed. "After all, you get to spend four days and three nights at The Sapphire Lodge."</p><p>Jesus Christ. Three nights with Andreas in a fancy ski resort. Like that was all fine and dandy. "Oh." I repeated. "Um. Thank you for telling me, Mr. Knightley."</p><p>"No problem, Peters. Just be sure to show up out front, next Thursday afternoon at six pm. We'll make sure everyone is accounted for and then hit the road. Pack warm."</p><p>He patted me on the back one last time before exiting, leaving me with a lot of thoughts. First off, why didn't anyone tell me? Second off, did we have enough money for a trip like this? And third, what the hell was I going to do? If I backed out, I'd raise suspicion and Andreas would have to choose someone else. However, that might've been for the best. I sighed and laid my head on the desk. Obviously, I didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but I couldn't just back out, either.</p><p>Maybe he'd be able to change his choice with Mr. Knightley later, or if he were really against the idea of us rooming together, he would back out and make up his own excuse. Wouldn't he? I mean, he wasn't the type to beat around the bush, but every other sane person would do the same thing. Things would be fine. That's what I tried to tell myself. I still wondered, though. Why didn't he tell them the truth?</p><p> </p><p>I didn't see Andreas the entire day. I assumed he was off that day or called in sick. I didn't blame him, especially not after what happened the night before. If I were him, I would have done that. I figured he probably wouldn't feel safe working with me. "Maybe he resigned," I muttered. All I could feel was shame, like a heavy stone settling in my stomach.</p><p>My phone buzzed, letting me know I got a text. I flipped it over to look at the screen and saw a text from Jenn, saying, "hey, is everything okay?"</p><p>Naturally, everything in me started to hotwire, and somehow, I felt like she knew. Andreas knew. It would only be a matter of time before she and everyone else knew, too. I flipped my phone back over and decided to ignore it for now. It would be fine. I would call her later. Right then, I had work to do.</p><p> </p><p>I went to the gym before heading home. I didn't bother with dinner or anything else but a shower and flopped into bed. My heart raced, even hours after I laid still in bed. Possibilities ran through my every thought. I couldn't sleep without the warmth of Jenn next to me, and I couldn't sleep because I couldn't stop thinking. Eventually, my phone rang around midnight, and only then did I realize I forgot to call Jenn. Jesus, what was wrong with me?</p><p>I answered on the second ring.</p><p>"Jackson?"</p><p>"Hey." I cleared my throat. "Sorry, honey, I saw your text, it's just- I was at work."</p><p>"Oh." I heard fabric rustling. She was probably in bed. Kept awake with worry for me. Guilt settled deep in my chest. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I should stop texting you all the time, huh? I keep forgetting that you're actually busy."</p><p>"You're not busy?" I asked as I got up and switched on the lamp.</p><p>"Not really." Her voice was gentle. Maybe her mother or Arabella was sleeping in the next room. "It's been kinda slow, honestly. I'm guessing it's the opposite for Abernathy, though, huh?"</p><p>"I guess," I lied. I was a terrible liar, but it was harder to tell over the phone. "I also can't really sleep much anymore, which doesn't help."</p><p>"Me neither." The sheets rustled beneath her again. Then she said the next thing like it was so easy to admit: "I miss you, Jackson."</p><p>"I miss you, too." I replied almost instantly. It actually surprised me. Maybe I didn't have a reason to feel guilty after all, I thought. I still loved Jenn. I would still choose her. I still miss her. And that counted for something.</p><p>I heard the faint smile in her voice as she said, "Only a few more months, okay, honey?"</p><p>I tried to smile, too. "Only a few more months."</p><p> </p><p>The next morning, I woke up to a text from Andreas Adair: <em>Are we still on for dinner after work on Tuesday?</em></p><p>Did... Did Andreas Adair suddenly have amnesia? The instant I finished reading the text, he started to call. I let it ring three times before answering, only because I was wondering why his timing was always so impeccable.</p><p>"...Hello?" He sounded so <em>normal</em>. As if nothing ever happened.</p><p>Hearing his voice again was like being brought back to the night before, when we were arguing back and forth outside of Meridian Hall. It was the last time he talked to me. I blinked. Maybe that entire night was a blur? Maybe that incident was merely a weird figment of my imagination.</p><p>But that was impossible.</p><p>I remembered it vividly. The sound of tires against wet asphalt racing past us. The air felt sticky and cold after the rain left. The way he looked at me. The way he just went back inside without another word, leaving me in silence. Hell, telling me off would've been better.</p><p>"Hello?" Andreas repeated.</p><p>"Uh. Hi." My voice was still sort of hoarse and croaky, an effect of just waking up.</p><p>"So are we still on for dinner on Tuesday or not?" I heard the sound of a knife clacking against a cutting board. He must've been making himself breakfast. The clock on my nightstand said it was nine. I really should've been doing the same.</p><p>I swallowed and attempted to clear my throat. "If you-" My voice was too raw. I coughed and tried again. "If you still want to."</p><p>"Great. Pick out a place. We can head over after work and you can drop me off at my house when we're done." He was still the same smooth and coordinated boy I knew before. "I'll see you then." I had the feeling he was about to hang up.</p><p>"Wait." I said it before I could even think of what I was going to say afterward.</p><p>He didn't hang up.</p><p>"Andreas, I..." How was I supposed to explain myself about something like this? It wasn't like I had to, of course, but I didn't want to have to sit through dinner with him without addressing it. "Andreas, I... I'm sorry for what happened. I mean, I know that's not a- a proper way to say that, but I just thought-"</p><p>"It's... It's okay, Jackson."</p><p>My jaw tightened. I both hated and loved when he called me by my first name.</p><p>"It's not," I insisted.</p><p>"Maybe." Andreas murmured after a moment. "But you promised me you'd buy me dinner in exchange for helping you arrange a gala you barely attended, and I don't know about you, but I happen to pull through on these types of things. Also," His voice quieted for no apparent reason. "after this, I'll stay away from you. If you want."</p><p>That hit me like a palette of bricks. It was almost like he was trying to protect me from him, and not the other way around. My stomach lurched.</p><p>"I'll even skip out on the retreat next weekend," he continued. "It might be for the best."</p><p>He was right, of course. It was rare for him not to be. Yet I hated the idea of avoiding him, of not seeing him again after Tuesday evening. I wanted to. His presence was... I don't know how to describe it. Even hearing the sound of his voice made my hairs on my arm stand up. Perhaps the best word for him would be <em>intoxicating</em>.</p><p>"Maybe." My mouth went miles ahead of my brain. "What do you think is best, Andreas?"</p><p>He didn't answer for a long time. In the distance, I heard an egg crack, followed by an immediate sizzle. A few more moments. Then, a simple answer I could completely understand. "I don't know."</p><p>Andreas Adair then hung up.</p><p>I ran my hands through my black curly hair and sighed. Tuesday night was gonna be so awkward. And also a chance to make things right.</p><p>Maybe.</p><p>I went through my phone and found the place I bookmarked a few days ago, a small pizzeria which apparently had the best deep dish Seattle had to offer. I typed it into my GPS and looked over how to get there from Abernathy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so im aware there migHt be a few grammatical and spelling errors as of now, but they should be fixed after i wake up tomorrow morning!<br/>again, i know i say this way too much, but thank you guys for all the hits, bookmarks, and comments. don’t be shy to leave some more, whether they be questions or literally almost anything else! </p><p>ps - next chapter should be up sometime before the end of july. in the meantime, i will be taking more time to build a buffer of chapters, flesh out the story and characters, etc.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair save Titus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair try to figure out what’s best while trying to find Andreas’ bastard cat.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for being patient with me!!<br/>first song recommendation from me that inspired some of the story is:<br/>“black on black” by Greyson Chance<br/>i love this song a lot and you guys should definitely give it a listen, along with some of Greyson’s other works! also feel free to add more song recommendations in the comments! :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sunday was the most productive I'd been in weeks. I went to the gym. I went to the grocery store. I cleaned the apartment. I cooked myself a moderately healthy breakfast. All the while, though, I couldn't stop thinking about the trip on Thursday. I wondered why Andreas never even mentioned it or the fact that I was supposed to be his mentor. I may not have known him that well, but I knew he was direct.</p><p>
  <em>"I don't know."</em>
</p><p>Well, about most things. I couldn't decide on whether or not he was uncomfortable with the idea of traveling and rooming with me for three and a half days. It was unusual how someone who can be so expressive could also be so inscrutable. I considered calling him to check up on him or ask him about all this. Anyone with a sound mind would know that's creepy, but, hell, if the last few weeks proved anything, it was that I had neither a sound mind or an ability to not be creepy, one way or another. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm defending myself. I'm a monster and a terrible person, but I was starting to think that maybe everyone was in their own right. And maybe I wasn't that different.</p><p>I pressed Andreas' contact and waited. I was in bed again, mostly because there was not much else to do anymore and because it was getting colder. It was around sixty degrees out that day, and the clouds were arranged in a way that made it look like it was about to rain, but it never did.</p><p>He answered the phone after the fourth ring. Today, something was sort of different about him. He didn't say anything when he picked up, but he seemed... off. "Hey," I said sheepishly. "I just wanted to, uh, confirm dinner plans for Tuesday. That's all. I don't even know why I called, I could've just texted, it's-"</p><p>"Whatever, I was just about to call you. Are you free right now?"</p><p>"Uh...What?" I wasn't hallucinating, right?</p><p>"It's a yes or no question, Jackson."</p><p>"I- uh..."</p><p>"I'm having a bit of an issue right now, so are you coming or not?"</p><p>I paused, my mind going pretty much everywhere. What kind of issue could it have been? And why would he need my help? "Uh. Yeah," I found myself saying it before I could even think it. "I'll be right over."</p><p>"Great. And, uh...well..."</p><p>"Andreas? Are you- I mean, is everything okay?"</p><p>Silence. I checked to see if I accidentally hung up, but it seemed like Andreas was just pondering what to say next. That was unusual, to say the least. Don't pressure him, I reminded myself. Let him say what he needs to say.</p><p>After a tense moment, he finally said, "Bring a leash."</p><p>He hung up.</p><p>Oh, Christ.</p><p> </p><p>So there I was, 2 pm on a Sunday, in the woods across from Andreas Adair's house, leash in hand, mind racing. You could imagine the cashier’s mortification at PetSmart when she asked if I had a dog or a cat because, well, I was buying a leash, and I said no.<br/>I parked my car out in front of the house and found Andreas himself near the treeline, pacing and chewing on his thumb. I tried to ignore that last thing. He was wearing a dark cashmere sweater over a light blue button up that fit him a bit too well, with a slim pair of boat shoes to match. I could tell that he knew I was there, but chose to wait until I was right in front of him to acknowledge me. He looked up to meet my eyes, his glasses reflecting the gloomy sky above us. "Hey."</p><p>I grinned awkwardly and offered him the leash I had to embarrass myself for. "Hey."</p><p>He took it from me and nodded, returning my expression. "So, um, Titus got out of the house."</p><p>"Oh." So <em>that's</em> what the leash was for. God, the places my mind went.</p><p>"Yeah, I opened the door and he just bolted out and now I can't find the bastard and-" He paused, as if actually realizing my presence. "Thanks for coming, by the way."</p><p>"Oh. No problem. I wasn't doing anything."</p><p>"Good. Well, I think he went this way." Andreas started off on a faint trail that led deeper into the woods. I stared at him, unsure. This wasn't a good idea. I knew that. But then he stopped to look over his shoulder at me expectantly. In that moment, I disregarded any logic I had left and I followed him.</p><p>It was nice out. The occasional chilly wind rattled me, but I was able to shake it off. What I couldn't shake off, however, was Andreas. He could've asked anyone else to come and help him, but he chose me, and that had to mean something, right? Unless he just wanted to keep messing with me. Really, there was no way to tell what he was thinking. "So why'd you need my help? I'm alright with helping, it's just that you... maybe could've found him by now."</p><p>Andreas visibly shivered. "Peters, I can't just wander into the woods by <em>myself</em>."</p><p>"Why not? I used to do it all the time as a kid." It was quiet and peaceful in the woods beside my middle school. I actually liked wandering into the woods as a kid. It served as a sort of refuge from the real world.</p><p>"Yeah, well, when was that, the Stone Age? I bet serial killers weren't a thing yet."He shot a sly grin at me. It seemed we were back to our regularly scheduled Andreas. Just like that.<br/>Because he could never go for more than ten minutes without reverting back to it. I found my ears getting warm. "I'm only thirty-five!"</p><p>The kid snickered quietly as he walked ahead and jumped on top of a nearby rock. "Heh. 'Only.'"</p><p>I shook my head, grinning, but chose to change the subject. "So, does Titus actually respond to his name?"</p><p>"<em>Sure</em>. When he feels like it. He's a cat, y'know?" Andreas leapt onto the ground nearby, crushing some weeds.</p><p>"Great, so how are we gonna find him?"</p><p>He shrugged as he wrapped and tied the leash around his right wrist. Andreas Adair was most likely left handed. Possibly even ambidextrous.</p><p>Noted.</p><p>"So are we just relying on pure luck, then?" I asked, partially because I needed the answer and partially because I didn't want to walk in silence. Things were awkward enough. At least for me. Andreas seemed to be having a grand ol' time.</p><p>"Um. Sort of? I didn't really think this through."</p><p>"And we're just supposed to wing it?"</p><p>"Yep."</p><p>"Really."</p><p>"Mhm."</p><p>We continued deeper into the forest, Andreas leading and occasionally calling for Titus while I kinda just trailed along. The leaves above us rustled with the wind, creating a gentle, on-and-off melody. It wasn't as uncomfortable as it could've been, but it definitely wasn't great. I kept on wondering why he called me here, of all people. He knew that I shouldn't be around him. Was he just naive? Or was I the only person he knew well enough to use as a human meat shield if someone came barreling towards us?</p><p>"Hey. Over here." Andreas gestured up ahead, where a narrow, clear stream flowed through. "The sides are muddy. There could be tracks."</p><p>I nodded and walked over, scanning the ground. "So. Has Titus been outside much?"</p><p>"Eh." Andreas made a "somewhat" gesture with his hand. "He usually doesn't like being outside at all, so I don't get why he's so eager all of a sudden."</p><p>"Maybe he got sick of you?" I joked.</p><p>A skeleton of a smile passed across his face, but just briefly. "Impossible," he remarked as he squatted down to examine something. "I'm timeless."</p><p>I allowed myself a small chuckle at that. A weight seemed to slowly lift off my shoulders as I realized that maybe he still wanted to be friendly. And that was okay with me. Mostly.</p><p>"Hey, Jackson?"</p><p>I looked down at him, and met his gaze. His eyes reflected the little sunlight we were getting now, and they almost looked deeper than the brown they were before. "Yeah?"</p><p>"Thanks for being here."</p><p>My lips quirked. I couldn't help it. "You said that already."</p><p>"Yeah, I know." He said a little too quickly.</p><p>"Oh, well, it's no problem. I wasn't doing anything, really."</p><p>"Yeah, but you could've lied to me and said you were." The teen stood up straight and walked past me to continue searching for tracks along the river's side. Or to walk away from me.</p><p>"Well. Fair point. But I didn't want to. You just sounded really..."</p><p>"What, scared?" He asked from over his shoulder.</p><p>I jogged to catch up. "I guess, yeah. But I get it. It's your cat. And he's... he’s cute."</p><p>Andreas sighed as he bent down to examine some prints in the mud. "Yeah, but he's a real pain in the ass sometimes. Like now." Suddenly, he cracked a smile as he glanced over at me. "Hey, that sounds familiar."</p><p>I fought away a grin. "Okay, look, I am a <em>delight</em> to be around."</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, and I-" He froze as he looked closer at the mud. "Look at this?"</p><p>I bent down. "Does it look like Titus' prints?"</p><p>Andreas sighed and yanked me down to his level by my collar. Shit. I ignored how his fingers brushed against the front of my neck and how firm his grip was. I realized with a mix of horror and exhilaration that if I did so much as turn my head in his direction, my lips could touch his temple. I swallowed, hard. Fuck, he looked better up close. "Yeah, these, uh, look a lot like Titus' paws. I think."</p><p>But the truth was, I barely even looked.</p><p>"Alright, so that means he could've gone down that way." Andreas pointed downstream as he let go of me. "With some luck, maybe he hadn't come back this way."</p><p>I adjusted my shirt, hoping that my face didn't betray how I felt on the inside. "Uh, yeah. Let's- Let's go."</p><p>We started walking along the river, occasionally spotting more tracks that indicated that we were getting closer or Titus was getting further. Andreas didn't seem particularly rattled, but I knew that he was the type of person that was good at hiding their true feelings. "So, how old is he?" I questioned, mostly in an effort to help him relax. And partially to get myself to stop thinking about how he yanked my shirt.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> And how quickly he could probably yank it <em>off</em> if he so desired.</span></p><p>"Who, Titus?" He slowed down so that we could walk beside each other.</p><p>I nodded and shoved my hands in my pockets because it felt weird to let them swing at my sides if I could accidentally touch him.</p><p>Andreas wrinkled his nose. "I'd say he's... maybe around six now? So, what is that, thirty in cat years?"</p><p>"Yeah," I said, despite knowing nothing about how cat years worked. Jeez, was even his cat younger than me? I decided to google how cats aged later.</p><p>"Hey, Jackson?"</p><p>I met his eyes. I don't think I ever quite got over how they looked. "Yes?"</p><p>"Do you have any pets? I should probably know this as your... personal assistant or whatever, but I feel like we never talk about you."<span class="Apple-converted-space"> He shrugged with one shoulder.</span></p><p>I guess we didn't. Perhaps maybe no one in my life really knew anything about me, to be honest. I sort of hated talking about myself. There was nothing to say. "No," I answered. "I don't have the time for one, and- wait, speaking of, how do you have time for both your internship and Titus?"</p><p>"Cats are independent creatures." Andreas leapt over a rock by the shore with ease. "Plus, I have, like, a maid who comes by everyday- his name is Nils, by the way- so if I ever forget to feed Titus or clean his litterbox, Nils does it."</p><p>"Well, I can't do that, can I?" I muttered.</p><p>Andreas cocked a brow at me. "Before you give me the whole 'you're so entitled' speech again, just remember: you asked. Also, I just happened to be born lucky. I could've been just the son of a street food vendor, but it just so happened that my father was... my father. And furthermore, that he decided to take me back to the states."</p><p>He stated all of that like it was the end of the discussion and started walking ahead of me again.</p><p>I suppose I couldn't argue with that. Besides, I couldn't be bitter with him forever. Just because my circumstances were way less fortunate, that didn't mean I had to take it out on him. He was only a kid, after all. And besides, I was in no position to be upset at him, especially after I made him so uneasy. But that only brought up the question again, of why he asked me to come here. If I actually did make him uncomfortable that night at the gala, then why would he call me here? What if he didn't actually know what was going on with me and he somehow thought it all meant... something else, somehow?</p><p>"Andreas." I stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to know.</p><p>He paused ahead of me, not bothering to look back. He didn't have to say anything for me to know I had his attention. Or that he knew something was up.</p><p>I didn't even know how to bring it up. I poised myself to speak, but deflated again because I barely knew what to even say. "After what... happened... at the gala..." I began. Andreas turned to half-face me. "why.... well, why would you call me here? In actuality? You know what I think- I mean, thought of you. So..." I took a deep breath. It was considerably easier to talk when he wasn't facing me. "Knowing all of that, why are you still choosing to be around me?"</p><p>Andreas gazed at the ground and his shoulders tensed, then relaxed. Then tensed again as he fiddled with the leash tied on his arm. God, I messed up, didn't I? We were having a good day. Why did I have to open my mouth? I thought of ways to brush it off or smooth things over so we could continue without having to address it. Maybe I could've told him to forget it, or say that it didn't really matter. But it did, and I couldn't deny that. There were a lot of things I had to stop denying, after all.</p><p>I walked up to him and gently placed my hand on his shoulder, like I would break him otherwise. "Hey, it's- it's not that important, we should keep looking for Titus, right?"</p><p>Andreas looked deep in thought, a complex range of emotions threatening to display on his face. Finally, he gazed up at me with none of them. "Jackson, the truth is, I don't know why I called you here specifically."</p><p>Ah.</p><p>"There were a lot of people I could've called," Andreas continued. "but you were the only one that came to mind."</p><p>My heart tightened at the thought of Andreas, in a panic, only being able to think of calling me of all people for help. "Really?" My voice was much softer than I intended, so I cleared my throat and tried again, firmer. "I mean, really?"</p><p>He nodded solemnly. "I just... I don't know. I guess I just thought you'd be the most... helpful?"</p><p>"But on Thursday..."</p><p>"I don't..." He raked a hand through his hair. "I don't know, okay?" For the first time, I think I heard Andreas actually sound... conflicted. Maybe even a little upset. It tore me apart a little to see his eyes grow wide and his movements grow more frantic. I shouldn’t have ruined this. "I've thought about it, like, constantly, but I can't... I don't... I don't know if this makes sense, but I... I mean obviously, I should be avoiding you, but I know-"</p><p>
  <em>Meow!</em>
</p><p>Both of our heads shot up. Far above us, on the thin branch of a tree next to us, clung a scared grey cat with golden eyes.</p><p>"Titus!" Andreas exclaimed, the desperate tone still in his voice. "Jackson, do you think you could climb up there and get him?"</p><p>I didn't. But the way he asked, I couldn't say no. I had to at least try. Wordlessly, I stepped up to the trunk and grabbed the lowest branch, trying to hoist myself up and use my legs to boost myself. The truth was, it had been around twenty or so years since I'd last had to climb anything, really, so it proved to be... sort of difficult. No. Very. Thankfully, I was strong enough so that I could support my own weight, but I also couldn't really remember the motions to scale a tree. Awkwardly, I clung to the lowest branch and reached up for Titus. "Here, bud. Uh, Titus. C'mere."</p><p><em>Don't look down, don't think too hard, don't let go,</em> I reminded myself, feeling sweat bead on my forehead. I had to do this. For Andreas. And for his cute cat. But Titus wasn't gonna budge. Oh, god, I'd have to climb higher. As I extended myself upward, I felt my stability lessen considerably. <em>Just need to grab the one above me. It's only a few inches. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm not gonna fall if I don't believe I will.</em> Hopefully, anyways. I took a breath and focused solely on Titus, who only stared at me with wide eyes while his claws dug into the wood beneath him. "It's okay." I told him, using the same voice I used on Ari as a baby when she cried. "I've got you, okay, buddy?"</p><p>Titus only backed away. Of course. I felt Andreas' eyes follow me as I continued my way up. I couldn't let him down. Or embarrass myself, for that matter. After what felt like forever, my hand was finally only a few inches beneath Titus. Slowly, I reached out to him. My hands trembled immensely as I used one to try and grab the cat and the other to cling for my life against the trunk. Don't fall. Don't fall, please do <em>not</em> fall.</p><p>Shakily, Titus came closer, but I moved my hand towards him too quickly. He hissed and clawed me. I sucked in a breath through my teeth as the red scratches on the side of my thumb started to bleed. When he lashed out again, though, he stepped forward, and I took the opportunity to scoop my arm under him and hoist him onto my shoulder. Good news was: I had the cat. Bad news was: my hand was now bleeding profusely because while I did that, he scratched and bit me quite a few times.</p><p>Then there was the problem of getting down. I glanced down at Andreas, who had worry written all over his face as he chewed on his thumb. "Are you okay?" He called up.</p><p>"Yeah, I'm fine, he just scratched me, that's all." I replied, my voice way higher pitched than I wanted it to be.</p><p>"I was talking to Titus!" I could hear the smirk on his voice. It was almost comforting. At least going down was way easier than getting up, even one-armed. Though I did almost slip and break my spine a few times, it was overall a way better experience when gravity was on your side. When I finally reached the ground, I held out Titus, who was suddenly a demon, to Andreas. Before actually taking him, though, Andreas held up a finger as if to say "wait," unraveled the leash on his forearm, and clipped it to Titus' collar before gesturing for me to put him down. Gingerly, I did. We both watched in silence as Titus attempted to kick his collar off, then to bite the leash. No luck. Andreas and I collectively breathed a sigh of relief. Andreas caught sight of my hand when I raised it to brush my hair away from my face, though, and his brow creased with worry. "Titus hates you that much?"</p><p>"Oh." I looked down and found an absolute river of blood gushing from the numerous claw and bite marks around my hand. It was as if seeing it made it hurt worse, and it went from being a dull stinging to a full-on burning sensation.</p><p>"Let me see." Before I could reply, Andreas had taken my injured hand in his unoccupied one, and slowly turned it around to examine the different wounds. I tried in vain to focus on the rustling leaves in the distance and really anything else but the press of his thumb into my palm and his gentle expression. It was... almost sweet, seeing him like this. Almost as if realizing how close he was to me, he abruptly dropped my hand and stepped back, clearing his throat. "I have some alcohol and bandages back at my house. C'mon."</p><p> </p><p>If possible, his house was even nicer than I remembered. And it smelled like him.</p><p>Andreas unleashed Titus, who bounded upstairs, before gesturing for me to follow him into the bathroom to the right. Surprisingly, the downstairs bathroom was... normal. Almost like my own. Andreas nodded towards the edge of the bathtub. "Sit."</p><p>So I did.</p><p>Meanwhile, he rummaged through the medicine cabinet above the toilet. "So..." I said awkwardly.</p><p>"So...?" He cocked a brow at me while he pulled down a white, almost translucent box.</p><p>"Does... Titus ever scratch you or anything?"</p><p>"Sometimes, but it's not as bad as this. Hold still." Andreas gently took my injured hand, and, while holding it over the drain, poured some alcohol over it. The burn immediately transformed into a raging sting, but I tried not to show it. I also tried to ignore the smell of the pure alcohol. It reminded me a little too much of my college days. Andreas sat on the edge with me and dabbed the back of my hand with a clean rag. He was sitting extremely close to me, though he didn't need to be. Because my elbow was bent, his face was close enough to mine for me to see him take steady breaths in and out. His right hand holding mine while his left delicately cleaned my wounds made me feel a certain type of softness for him. His hands were actually slightly calloused now that I was really, truly feeling them against my skin. I wondered what made them that way.</p><p>"I'm guessing since you had time to help me find my bastard son,”</p><p>I laughed a little at that and he grinned. “you're not doing much else the rest of the day, either, right?" Andreas stood up to retrieve antibiotic ointment and band-aids.</p><p>I shrugged. "I dunno, I was planning on laying in bed. You know, questioning my existence. Having a few crises. Wallowing in my self pity. But I can always put that aside."</p><p>Andreas kneeled in front of me and chuckled. "Yeah, I felt that."</p><p>"Um. Why do you ask?"</p><p>He took my hand in his again and dabbed some Neosporin on each cut and bite, cooling the burn just by a bit. "I was just wondering if maybe we could do dinner now instead of Tuesday. We've got time, right? Plus, you’re already here.” </p><p>"I guess." I'd have to look at the route again.</p><p>"Alright." Andreas looked up at me for a fraction of a second too long before taking a number of band-aids and putting them on my hand. By the end, I had about seven of various sizes. I held up my almost-immobilized hand.</p><p>"Thanks." </p><p>For the first time, I looked down and actually saw what position we were in. Andreas was sitting with his feet tucked under him. And he was nearly in between my legs. Fuck. How was I going to spend a weekend in a room with him?</p><p>"No prob." He shot me a usual smirk and stood up to put the box away and wash his hands at the sink. God, what if he knew what I was thinking? He should've. Right?</p><p>"Andreas, we can't...” I shook my head and looked down at the linoleum. “I mean I can't keep dodging what we need to talk about."</p><p>He turned off the tap and leaned against the counter with his palms, but didn't answer.</p><p>"Please. We need to. We can't keep avoiding it."</p><p>He sighed and looked down. When he said nothing for a good minute, I wondered if it would've been better not to mention it. Why'd I have to ruin good things?</p><p>"I told you." He finally said, his voice low and steady. "I don't know."</p><p>"Andreas-" I started.</p><p>"I don't know how I feel about it. I don't know what to do about it. And I know I should." He glanced over at me, examining me. "But I don't. But what I do know is that I don't want to cut you off. You're..." He looked up at the ceiling and his jaw clenched. "You're one of the first people I've actually been able to talk to."</p><p>I was surprised. Talking wasn't something I was good at. But it obviously came easy for Andreas. Why did he <em>value</em> me?</p><p>"And, if it makes you feel any better..." He walked over and kneeled in front of me, forcing my knees apart. I instinctively backed away, but he pulled me back towards him by the front of my shirt. I was nose-to-nose with him. My heartbeat quickened and I gulped. He knew exactly what he was doing. "...people are attracted to me all the time, Jackson." Andreas narrowed his eyes at me. My eyelashes brushed against his glasses lenses.</p><p>"Yeah?" I breathed.</p><p>"Don't act surprised." His voice lowered. He let go of my shirt and put his palms against the bathtub porcelain, his thumbs brushing against the sides of my pants. My face and neck warmed. What was he playing at? "It happens more than you think. But ultimately, I call the shots." His left thumb brushed against my thigh, and my breath hitched. I could only imagine how it'd feel to have this much power over him. "Don't worry, Jackson. You don't make me that uncomfortable, if that's why you're so focused on this. You know why?"</p><p>I opened my mouth to answer, but found the sound of my voice trapped in my throat as he let his hand softly go up the side of my thigh and rest on top of it, the thumb pressing lightly on the inside of it. He leaned into my ear and smirked. "Because I know you're not the one in control." Andreas whispered, his breath warm against my skin. Goosebumps crawled up my back. I didn't like it. But I knew that he was right. He stood up, straightened his sweater, and walked over to the door. "We should get going." Andreas said, his voice normal now. Before leaving, he shot me a smug grin over his shoulder. "I'm starving."</p><p>Christ.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>you guys are the best! feel free to comment (ESPECIALLY if you have any song recommendations, questions, etc.) and leave a kudos!! they’re what encourage me to keep writing!<br/>next chapter should be released either at the end of this month or the beginning of august! by the end of the new release, they’ll officially be at the interns’ retreat, so make sure to look out for that!<br/>love you guys! stay safe! &lt;3 :)))</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair go to the ski resort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair eat some pizza and head towards their weekend getaway. Jackson Peters finally decides what’s best.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello!! thanks for waiting!<br/>song recommendation today is "Daddy Issues" by The Neighbourhood<br/>i love this song so much and it was a big contributing factor to inspiring Andreas and Jackson's characters as a whole!<br/>all the songs i used to write this story and also the ones i recommended will be compiled into a playlist by the end of the entire series!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The last time I was in a car with Andreas Adair, we had a riveting discussion about old books and perspective, but this time, Andreas fell asleep the instant he buckled himself in. I suppose it was tiring work, not climbing up a tree and all. I was sort of thankful, though. I didn't know what I'd do if I had to talk to him or if he made any type of physical contact with me. Again.<br/>When we approached a red light, I looked over at Andreas and watched as his expression become slightly troubled, then went back to peaceful again. I wondered what he could possibly have nightmares about. I wanted to know more about him. His fears, his dreams, his plans for the future. I shouldn't have, and I knew that, but I just couldn't help but wonder what Andreas Adair was actually like. And wonder what it would be like for him to know me. Would I let him? Did I ever let Jennifer? Oh, Jenn... I couldn't do this to her. She loved me so much. She never would've done this to me. And Ari. What was I supposed to do? God. I was being so unreasonable. And selfish. I felt a pang of guilt that made my heart drop to my stomach. I had a family. I couldn't just throw them away because, what, I was bored? Because I was having an internal crisis? I pictured Jenn on the night we met, her hair done up and the light reflecting off her bare shoulders. I thought of her cautious smile as I approached and how she laughed as I told her the cheesy pickup line my friend told me to say. How she held my face in her hands and simply looked into my eyes on the night we got engaged, her own eyes bright with laughter and tears.<br/>I thought about how sometimes Arabella would reach for me when she cried as a baby. When Jenn still worked really late at the office back in Chicago, Ari cried a lot. I was almost clueless to what she needed, but eventually, when I caught the hang of it, she would get more excited to see me in the mornings. It was her little smile that helped me keep going when I had trouble finding a job and when Jenn and I's relationship got rocky. Yet here I was, willing to betray her and my fiancée in perhaps the worst way possible. I couldn't. I was better than this. I quickly glanced at Andreas again, noticing how his eyelashes reflected the sunlight through the window. Fuck, what was I doing? I couldn't give myself hope for something to happen between me and him for so many reasons. I was about to get married, I had a kid, I was two decades older than him, and most of all, he was underage.</p><p>He could get me arrested.</p><p>I could get myself arrested. How would Ari be able to face me, her father again? How would Jennifer cope with me in jail for something so immoral? I shook my head to myself. Andreas and I talked about doing what was best. And although I knew what was best, it was hard to admit. Being around him made me feel intoxicated. The more I was around him, the more I wanted to feel that way, and the more I came back. Like alcohol. I didn't want to be addicted to something- rather, someone- again. So I knew what I had to do. I had to distance myself from Andreas. And I decided to do just that after the retreat that weekend.</p><p>I finally drove past to the little pizza place after what felt like forever, then parked in a nearby parking garage. Thankfully, I didn't have to nudge Andreas awake or anything because the instant we stopped for more than twenty seconds, his eyes fluttered open. "We're here?" He asked groggily.<br/>“Yeah. Get up or I'm leaving without you." Andreas rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and got out of the truck.<br/>“Okay, okay. So where are we headed?" "You'll see." We walked out via the nearby exit and went down the sidewalk outside. "I honestly don't know if you'll like it or not, but I'll stay optimistic." Andreas put his hands in his pants pockets and grinned. "Oh, Jackson Peters being optimistic? That's new." I poised myself to argue, but knowing that it wasn't an argument I'd win, I gave up ahead of time. "This meal better not include tree nuts, Jackson. I didn't come equipped with an epipen."<br/>“And if it <em>does</em> involve tree nuts?" He punched my shoulder in what I can assume was meant to be a playful gesture, but actually ended up hurting a lot.<br/>“Then I might just have to put you in jail for attempted murder." I rubbed the spot where he punched me, which pulsed with a dull ache. I'd have to check later if a bruise formed.<br/>“<em>I</em> might have to put you in jail for attempting to murder me just now, Jesus Christ. Do you take boxing on the weekends or something?"<br/>“Kickboxing, actually." He glanced at me smugly. <em>You can't get attached</em>, I reminded myself. <em>Remember the plan</em>.<br/>I cleared my throat. "Um, it's right over here." I pointed at the stairs to our left that led down into the actual restaurant. I saw Andreas' eyes skim the sign out front. It read, the Best Deep Dish in Seattle.<br/>A slow smile spread across his face. "You didn't."<br/>"I <em>did</em>." I gestured grandly to the entrance. "After you." Andreas laughed.<br/>”I <em>cannot</em> believe you. You're so petty." Not knowing what petty meant, I said, "Why, thank you," and we went inside. It was dimly lit inside, with red vinyl booths against each side, plus old road signs hung on the walls. It was cozy, but also sort of noisy with the sound of chatter bouncing off the walls from the patrons at the bar. We got a table in the corner, where it was more quiet. I ordered the special, which was just a standard deep dish, and got a Diet Coke as a drink. Andreas got an unsweetened iced tea. Once the server was gone, Andreas propped his chin up with one hand. "This is cute. How's you find this place?"<br/>I averted my eyes. <em>Why'd he have to look like that?</em> "Uh, Yelp. Yeah, it's just- you know, the instant you said you preferred New York style, I thought that maybe you just never had a good deep dish, so- you know."<br/>He narrowed his eyes at me, but not menacingly. "And what'll you do if I don't end up liking it?"<br/>"I might just have to find another place, and then another, and then I might just have to drag you to Chicago myself, because I am determined to open your eyes to the beauty and nuance of a deep dish." My face warmed as I realized that I was getting way into this.<br/>Andreas fought back a smile as he combed back his hair with his fingers. God, why did he have to do that? I cleared my throat and looked down at the table cloth. There was a stain on the edge of it. Huh. No wonder this place only had four stars. "So, uh, are you excited for the retreat this weekend?" I realized that I had to bring it up before it actually happened. Andreas leaned forward and took a long, deliberate sip of his drink before answering. "I guess. The Sapphire Lodge is okay, and I'll get to spend the weekend with some of my friends."<br/>"Right." Sometimes I forgot that a lot of other interns already knew him.<br/>"And you, of course." I felt heat rise in my face. Again.<br/>"Oh. Yeah. You too." I averted my gaze and took a sip of my drink. "Um. So, who are these friends? You've never talked about them." I hastily said.<br/>Andreas wasn't fazed. "I don't know if you know them, but I think I'm only actually friends with the triple A's and-" "Wait." I held up a finger. Now, this I had to hear. "Who are the triple A's?"<br/>"Oh, they're the Kim triplets. Alice, Aaron, and Aidan Kim. You know. The triple A's. Their mom is friends with my dad, so I went to elementary school with them." I'd never heard about any one of them in my life.<br/>“Okay, good to know, I guess, and who else?"<br/>Andreas knit his brows together and rested his chin in his hand. "Hm. Now that I think about, that's really it."<br/>”There's gotta be more."<br/>“<em>Theoretically</em>, there is, but I only <em>consider</em> a few people my friends." He shrugged. "It's a rather selective program."<br/>"Theoretically speaking, would I get accepted?"<br/>Andreas grinned lopsidedly. "Without a doubt." I grinned back despite myself, and it was almost like we were in that spectator box at Abernathy again, on the first day I met him. Maybe he wasn't exactly the same as he was then, but maybe I liked the complex version better.</p><p>Wait, what was I saying? I wasn’t supposed to <em>like</em> any version of him. God, Jackson, get a grip. You know what you have to do.<br/>"Here we go, one signature deep dish!" The waitress came by with a piping hot pie and placed it between us. "Let me know if you fellas need anything else, yeah?" When she left a few moments later, I looked at Andreas for his reaction, but all he was doing was pulling out his phone.<br/>"Don't touch it yet." He held out his hand, as if to say wait. "You touch it, I'll break you." He said as he tapped a few things on his screen.<br/>"Wha-" He held up his phone and grinned.<br/>"Say cheese!" Before I knew it, the flash had gone off, and he'd taken a picture of me and the pizza. He tapped a little more.<br/>"What're you doing?" I asked cautiously. "I haven't updated my Instagram in a while," was all he said in response. "Andreas, did you just post me on your Instagram?"<br/>"Relax, Peters." He held up his phone so the screen faced me. He'd posted a picture of me wearing a half grin- half confused puppy look with the pizza in the foreground. The caption read, "Best mentor ever!" Which was strangely touching.<br/>"Something tells me you're <em>not</em> gonna delete that."<br/>"Not a chance!" He chirped happily. I found myself smiling involuntary at him. I really needed to get away from him.</p><p>I dropped him off in front of his house later that afternoon. I waited until he'd gotten inside and a few seconds after that until I drove off. In short, the pizza was fine. We both agreed that it wasn't as terrible as it could've been, but we'd both eaten better ones. But surprisingly, the meal went without a hitch. We debated again about Romeo and Juliet on the ride home, and I found myself drunk on laughter. God, when was the last time I'd felt this giddy? It was hard to remember now. Suddenly, my phone started ringing in the cup holder, and I briefly glanced at the caller ID. Jenn. I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. Did she know somehow? I picked it up and tried to sound normal. "Hey, hon."<br/>"Hey. How are things going?"<br/>“They're good. You?" She sighed in the distance, and I swear I heard Ari... screaming?<br/>"Well, Ari's having a fit because Mom told her that she cannot, in fact, have ice cream for dinner."<br/>"Ah." Classic Arabella. Though that was kind of my fault. Sometimes, when Jenn wasn't home, I let her indulge in whatever she wanted just so she would be quiet. "I'm so sorry."<br/>"Any advice?" Jenn asked wearily.<br/>"Uh... pray?" I suggested. Jennifer laughed, and the sound made me miss hearing it in person. I honestly think the only reason she went out with me in college was because I made her laugh. But sometimes that was enough.<br/>"Is that Daddy? Let me talk to Daddy!" I heard Ari scream through sniffling. "Godspeed." I heard Jennifer murmur. "I'm giving the phone to Ari. Calm her down, please?"<br/>"I'll try." What choice did I have? I turned off the road that led to Andreas Adair's house and started driving down the highway.<br/>"Dad?"<br/>"Hey, sweetheart." I said, trying to sound comforting. "What's the matter?"<br/>"M-Mom said that we- we can't... that I can't have- that I can't eat ice cream for dinner..." She started crying some more.<br/>"Ice cream has sugar, Ari." Reasoning wouldn't work with any other six-year-old, but Arabella was mature for her age. "And sugar makes us hyper, and you need to go to bed."<br/>"But I don't... I don't wanna!" I heard her start pouting.<br/>"You gotta sleep so that you can... uh, eat ice cream tomorrow." She started crying harder. Negotiations were way easier when you were doing them in person.<br/>"Okay, okay, Ari, Grandmama’s gonna talk to you now, okay? Okay, now go on." Jennifer said gently. When the sobbing got distant, Jenn sighed quietly. "It's okay. You tried."<br/>"I did." Somewhat.<br/>"So... what're you doing now?"<br/>"Just driving home." That much was the truth, at least. "The interns' retreat is this weekend. I gotta start packing. Remind me where those new boots I got went? I haven't been able to find them." "The... beige ones?"<br/>"Grey."<br/>"Ohh. Those should be under the bed." Of course I never thought to check there. I didn't know how I'd even be alive without Jenn.<br/>“Right. Thanks." Silence. I guess not living with someone anymore gave you considerably less to talk about. Plus, Jenn wasn't much of a talker on the phone either. For awhile, I expected her to say bye and hang up, like one of us always did, but she didn't. She stayed on call with me all the way until I got back to the apartments' parking garage, simply not saying anything. Maybe she forgot to hang up? I was afraid to interrupt the peace, but also to be the one to end the call. As I got out of the truck, my thoughts only raced. What if she wanted to break up? Would that be so bad? It would. Most likely. I stepped in our dark, empty apartment and locked the door behind me. When I checked, she still hadn't hung up. "You there?" I asked tentatively, in case she somehow fell asleep.<br/>"Hm? Oh. Yeah."<br/>“Are you doing something?" I checked under the bed. My grey boots. I slid them out from under so I didn't forget to pack them.<br/>"No, I just... I guess it's just comforting to have your presence here." She said hesitantly. I rested my forehead against our bedroom's doorframe and inhaled deeply. Every trace of her in the apartment was gone, aside from the framed picture of all of us in the nightstand drawer.<br/>"I'm sorry I can't be there with you." I said softly. It's all I really could say. I wish I could've talked through everything going on in my mind right now, but it just couldn't happen. I'd become unhinged enough just thinking about it. "I know." She whispered, barely audible. Her end seemed really quiet now. I suppose Ari and her grandmother had gone to sleep. "You could come visit, you know. My mom doesn't mind."<br/>"Yeah?"<br/>"Yeah. Um. Come down for her birthday, maybe?" The beginning of October.<br/>"I'll see what I can do." This time, I didn't speak before thinking. I needed to see my family. The people that mattered most. It would be good to remind myself of that. "You should go to bed."<br/>"Yeah. But... But could you stay for a little longer, please?"<br/>"Is something wrong?"<br/>"No." She blurted a little too quickly. "No, I just... could you stay on call for just a minute or two more? Stay with me?" My chest tightened when I realized that she was pleading with me. She didn't know about Andreas, but if she did, this could've been how she'd react. I couldn't live with myself if that happened.<br/>"Yeah. I'll stay." I told her, my voice hoarse. I always advocated against making a promise you couldn't keep, or creating false hope. But that night, I made two promises, not one. One to myself. And one to Jennifer Gallagher. And I ended up breaking both.</p><p>I spent the majority of the days leading up to Thursday panicking. Internally, of course, but that didn't make it much better. I kept checking and rechecking that I had everything I needed, then thinking I forgot something and going back to look again. At work, I found my office door unlocked with Andreas already inside. He'd shoot me an award-winning smile while snooping through old files and we'd chat and I'd enjoy our time together, but still know that eventually, it would end. I wish we could've remained friendly, but I didn't know if it were possible. As long as Andreas Adair existed in my vicinity, I wanted him, and I knew I shouldn't have. It wasn't healthy. He might've thought we could've become something more, based on his behavior, but I never knew exactly how he was feeling or thinking. Maybe that's why I was drawn to him. He was a puzzle I couldn't solve.</p><p>Thursday finally came. The morning of, I woke up early just to check and see if I had everything. Toothbrush. Comb. Jackets. Boots. I had it all, but for some reason, I couldn't stop checking again and again. Was I nervous? I pictured Andreas Adair smirking at me inside of our room or showering in the same shower as me.<br/>Fuck. I needed to get a grip. As soon as I was convinced I had everything, I took my suitcase and headed off to Abernathy. That day, after work, all the interns that decided to go, along with their mentors, were going to take a charter bus to The Sapphire Lodge, which was about a three hour drive from Abernathy, and then check in. I didn't know how I was supposed to feel about sharing a room with Andreas. Indifferent? Is that what other "mentors" felt towards it? I wondered who Ashley was rooming with. Or Travis. I heard that he'd been chosen as a mentor, too, by some miracle. I couldn't help but wonder if those two felt nearly anywhere near as skittish as I did. Of course not, they're normal, I reasoned. Normal. I'd never know that word again.<br/>Andreas was off work that day, and I didn't know whether to feel disappointed or relieved at that. Aside from Sunday, the two of us hadn't really brought up the retreat, and I couldn't tell if it was because he didn't want to or because he didn't think he needed to. Shit, did he think something was going to happen between us on this trip? I unlocked my office and swallowed hard. Obviously, I couldn't let that happen, but once I imagined it, I couldn't stop. I thought of how it'd feel to run my finger down his bare thigh or to sink my teeth into his perfect copper skin, to make him shiver.<br/>I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the edge of my desk. Jesus <em>Christ</em>. What was <em>wrong</em> with me? The day seemed to go by excruciatingly slow. I logged some new experiments, emailed a few colleagues, and talked to Knightley about the trip in the break room, but it still seemed like minutes were hours. I glanced at the time in the corner of my computer screen every few seconds like it'd make a difference. Once it reached almost time to load the bus, though, I wished I hadn't wanted time to pass faster. I didn't know if I was ready to face Andreas. Especially not then. But I had to. I couldn't keep running from my thoughts, after all. I grabbed all my things and went to the parking lot to deposit my work things and exchange them for my luggage. Then, as Nakamura had told me to, I gave my car keys to Della at the front desk for safekeeping. Della pouted as she stored and locked them away in her desk. "It's gonna be so boring without you guys around."<br/>"Don't worry, Ms. Torres, it's only for a few days." I reassured her. "Besides, less interns means less chance of one of them almost burning down one of the labs again. I take that as an absolute upside." She shrugged and picked at her pristine fingernails. "Yeah, but you guys get a luxury, all expenses paid vacation. I consider that an upside."<br/>"Not when you're mentoring Andreas Adair." She laughed in a way that was loud and genuine, then slapped me on the arm.<br/>"Jackson, you're terrible."<br/>"But you agree with me." She wiggled her eyebrows at me before turning to someone who required her assistance. That's how most of our conversations ended, so I didn't mind. I waved her goodbye, and in response, she made a "shoo" gesture. Ah, classic Della. After taking a deep breath, I walked out front of Abernathy Labs, where the charter bus was parked and many interns and scientists alike had gathered.<br/>"Hey, Peters." Nakamura greeted me as she walked over. With Travis in tow, as usual. "All set?" I never realized how polarizing it would be to see your coworkers in travel attire. Instead of her usual crisp clothing, Nakamura was wearing leggings and a Simpsons hoodie. And Travis, well... he was obviously wearing different clothes, but he still seemed exactly the same.<br/>"I think so?" Was all I could answer, because I had that unshakable feeling that I'd forgotten something at home somehow, even though I'd checked my luggage at least ten times before I left. "You?"<br/>"As ready as I can be, I guess. I'm mentoring Alice Kim, though, and I don't think there's a way to properly prepare for that." Ashley placed a hand on her hip and sighed. Did everyone except me have to look like a model all the damn time?<br/>“... What's wrong with Alice Kim?" I asked tentatively.<br/>"What isn't?" Travis muttered.<br/>"Travis," Ashley began.<br/>"What? Am I wrong?" She pinched the bridge of her nose and drew in a breath before turning to face me.<br/>"Okay, she's... kind of rambunctious? And maybe a little high maintenance. And... the one who accidentally set Lab D on fire last week."<br/>I sympathetically clasped her on the shoulder. "Good luck."<br/>"Yeah, thanks. I had to check her bag twice just to make sure she wasn't snuggling in any alcohol or drugs. You know, we'd get in the same amount of trouble for that sort of thing."<br/>"Which is bullshit," Travis added, adjusting the duffel bag on his shoulder. Nakamura glanced at Travis, but decided to let this slide, most likely because there was no arguing against that.<br/>I felt a tap on my arm, and when I turned, I found Andreas Adair, who was surprisingly wearing just joggers and a Fall Out Boy shirt. "Ready?" He asked, setting his sleek designer suitcase next to him. I nodded half-heartedly. Even now, he still looked breathtaking. And I was supposed to never see him again after this trip. It was like seeing someone for the last time behind bars or something. I didn't expect it to be this hard.<br/>"Uh, are you excited?"<br/>He raked his fingers through his hair. "I dunno. The Sapphire Lodge is... okay, in terms of ski resorts." Of course he'd already been. And of course he'd been to more than one.<br/>"This is my first time." I informed him.<br/>”Ah, trust me, you weren't missing much." Andreas placed his hand in his pocket and looked up to meet my eyes. "The slopes aren't even open this time of year, but I guess they <em>do</em> have an all-day spa, some hot tubs, and a rock climbing gym."<br/>"And you said I wasn't missing much?" I muttered. He opened his mouth to respond, but closed it when he realized who he was talking to.<br/>"Yeah, sorry, I forgot."<em> I forgot you weren't rich like me</em>, he meant. Everyday, it was like I flipped the switch between wanting to get closer to him and wanting to shove him out a window.<br/>"Alright, everyone!" Mr. Knightley stepped outside in front of the crowd and clapped his hands to get our attention. "Make sure you've got all your belongings and that your bladders are empty, because we're not stopping this bus until an hour and a half in. So if you need to use the restroom, do it now." At that, a few people started walking back into the building. I didn't need to pee, but I probably did need a Xanax.<br/>"Hey, Andreas!" An Asian girl with blonde highlights waved him over. Alice Kim, I guessed. Plus two identical-looking boys next to her who I assumed to be Aaron and Aidan Kim, but it was harder to tell which one was which.<br/>"Duty calls." Andreas raised his eyebrows. "Don't miss me too much." He winked and wheeled his suitcase to where the triple A's were. The switch flipped.<br/>"You're mentoring Andreas Adair?" Travis Smith approached, holding both his and Nakamura's luggage. She probably went to the bathroom. I nodded in response. "What about you?"<br/>"Aidan Kim." He gestured towards the identical boy in the right. Like that helped at all. "He's like a younger, Korean version of me." I honestly couldn't tell if he was proud of or afraid of that fact.<br/>I was gonna say something else, but the bus doors opened, and Knightley called for us to put our luggage in the back compartment before boarding. "Also, interns- make sure that you sit with your mentor, and vice versa." A few groans of protest went up from the crowd. "Alright, alright," Knightly said as he walked off towards the company SUV. "quit your whinin' so we can get going." The charter bus was probably the nicest vehicle I'd ever seen. Inside, all of the cushioned seats had seatbelts and arm rests. Each of the windows even had blinds. Blinds.<br/>I chose a seat near the back and sank into it. Man, I never wanted to go anywhere in anything else.<br/>"There you are." Andreas plopped down into the seat next to me as Ashley paused at our row, trying to find Alice. "I think she's on the other side," He told her. She looked down and smiled politely at him.<br/>"Thanks, kid."<br/>"Ashley!" Alice screeched from the front of the bus. "I'm over here! I brought Teen Vogue magazines, wanna see?" Nakamura mouthed "help me" to us, making Andreas snicker, before heading over to her intern. As many mixed feelings as I had about sitting next to Andreas Adair for three hours, I had to at least be grateful that I wasn't sitting next to Alice Kim.<br/>Speaking of Andreas, he took out his wireless headphones and handed one to me. "Okay..." I took it cautiously and popped it in one of my ears as he did the same. Slowly, I started hearing the intro of a song, the steady melody of a bass guitar. Andreas Adair seemed to like rock music.<br/>Noted.<br/>He grinned at me. "Your picture got almost three thousand likes, by the way." "Is that... <em>good</em>?"<br/>"Yeah, pretty good." The singer's voice came in, hollow and rumbling at first, then desperate and clear.<br/>As the bus pulled away from Abernathy, Andreas laid his head back and closed his eyes. "Wake me up when we get there." "...okay." His playlist shuffled between songs that were mostly similar, except one. There was one that was mellow, where the singer's voice sounded almost distant the entire time. I actually liked it. I gazed at Andreas, his face ever so gentle in the soft glow of the sunset. A lock of his hair fell over his forehead, and instinctively, I reached out, but at the last second, I restrained myself. I truly didn't know how to explain how captivating he really was. He was a type of handsome that didn't translate well into words, someone you'd have to see with your own eyes. I couldn't describe his light bronze skin in a way that served him justice, and the same went for his thoughtful dark eyes, his silky, coffee-colored hair, or perfectly shaped mouth. I wished I could look at him forever, just to really understand all these supernaturally pretty features, but that was the main problem. I had to stop while I still could. I knew I did. I couldn't break my two promises. But when I did, I didn't know how to forgive myself.</p><p>"Passengers, we are arriving at The Sapphire Lodge. Please make sure you have all your personal belongings and thank you for taking Sterling Motorcoach Incorporated." I blinked a few times to realize that I was still in the bus. Music was still playing in my left ear. God, when did I fall asleep? And how did I sleep past the rest stop? It took me a second to fully understand that my shoulder was numb and looking down, Andreas was laying on it, his eyelids half open. "Andreas?" I said groggily.<br/>He yawned and sat up straight, stretching his back and arms. "Ugh. I feel like I just..."<br/>“Fell down seven flights of stairs?" I suggested.<br/>"More like ten." Andreas yawned again, then looked around as the bus came to a stop and the overhead lights turned on. The intercom above our heads chimed again. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to your weekend getaway. Please watch your step when exiting the bus."<br/>I glanced at Andreas.</p><p>It wasn't going to be very much of a getaway.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>holy flipping heck we hit over 1k reads!!! i can't express how thankful i am for y'all, ugh, you guys are the absolute best!! ok ok ok, four things (please bear with me here!): </p><p>1. now, i know this update is a little lengthy and sorta boring, but trust me, things will definitely get more interesting starting in the next few chapters, as promised.</p><p>2. please don't hesitate to let me know in the comments if there seem to be any continuity or grammar errors (+ where they are located)! they help me know where to fix my mistakes and improve the experiences of future readers! </p><p>3. help me? im not very experienced in using this platform, so im not quite sure what to put for this work's rating. of course there's sex scenes, cussing, graphic violence, heavy themes, etc., but can you guys tell me (with the tags also in consideration) whether this is Teen and Up, Mature, or Explicit in the comments, plus reasoning on why? that'd be sooo helpful 🥺😳</p><p>4. since this work has gained way more reads than i ever anticipated, im going to start implementing a consistent schedule (tentatively, bc who knows what might happen) where i will upload new chapters every two weeks.<br/>the schedule for the next few chapters will look like this:<br/>Chapter 16 - August 8th<br/>Chapter 17 - August 22nd<br/>Chapter 18 - September 5th<br/>Chapter 19 - September 19th<br/>and so on! don't worry, i will definitely try to let you guys know beforehand if i think an upcoming chapter will be late or if the schedule will instead become monthly (if necessary).<br/>that being said, im actually starting school again next month (🤮😭😔), so I just want to let y'all know about and apologize in advance for a few chapters that may be delayed or shorter than usual in the future. however, im determined to keep writing. you guys are what motivate me, so make sure to leave a kudos and a comment if you liked this work or if you'd like to ask a question (it can be about me, my writing process, the characters, the setting, the story- whatever, as long as there's no spoilers!) or leave a song title/artist that reminded you of PWF (Playing With Fire). </p><p>love y'all! stay safe, my honeys!</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Andreas Adair does hoodrat stuff with his friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair get acquainted with The Sapphire Lodge.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>here's another one! </p><p>song rec today is "Mystery of Love" by Sufjan Stevens, one of the songs that give me a great atmosphere to write in! (doesn't quite fit the atmosphere of the chapter tho teehee sorry) </p><p>also please make sure to read my end notes because i have some important news about the Q&amp;A! </p><p>also i just wanna express my deep gratitude for you guys' kudos and comments! please keep leaving them! they make my day! </p><p>here's the current upload schedule for the next few months!<br/>Chapter 17 - August 22nd<br/>Chapter 18 - September 5th<br/>Chapter 19 - September 19th<br/>Chapter 20 - Oct. 3<br/>and so on! </p><p>(Please note that I go by the Chicago time zone)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once everyone had retrieved their luggage, the group gathered in the lobby, which was <em>huge</em>. It had a tall ceiling with wooden beams to give it a rustic sort of look, but also dark blue lounge chairs and coffee tables on the ground level to sell the "sapphire" part. A woman emerged from a staff room behind the front desk and beamed at us with unnaturally white teeth. "Welcome to The Sapphire Lodge, everyone!" She gestured grandly to everything around us. "I'm Mrs. Varma, and I run the facilities, so feel free to let me know if you need anything! Now, the staff are going to settle you all into your rooms. After that, however, don't be afraid to swing by the bar or the hot tubs before getting some well-needed rest. Mr. Knightley here tells me that he has a great weekend planned, and we're excited to have you here." She smiled wider, if possible, then stepped aside to let Knightley say a few things. He clasped his hands together and stroked his now-growing mustache before speaking, the ever-present smile on his face. </p><p>"Now, I know you guys are excited- however, some of you mentors have underaged interns, so please make sure that they don't leave the lodge and that they are back in your shared rooms before eleven pm." His voice started reverting to its southern twinge again. "As for the rest of you, just don't get too drunk, okay?" That got a few scattered laughs across the crowd. "Alright, you're free to go." </p><p>Each pair was met with an employee, who had room keys equipped. Andreas and I's employee was an older man named Will, who politely greeted us and led us to the elevators. </p><p>Once inside, he pressed the button for the fourth floor and faced us to give the all-important speech every employee probably had to give about what to do if we needed to change rooms, ask for more towels, order room service, etc. I only nodded in response. My tiredness was hitting me all at once. Forget drinking or soaking in hot water, I wanted to flop down in bed and sleep for a full seven hours. Thankfully, our room wasn't far from the elevator. Will unlocked the room, handed us both a key card, and opened the door for us. "Just dial on the telephone if you need any more assistance." </p><p>I was finally able to look around, and holy hell, it looked like something straight out of those rustic home decor magazines. There was a faux fireplace, for starters, with a huge TV mounted above it. Then there was a brown leather couch with throw pillows and an armrest and matching shag rugs and the mini kitchen in the corner had stainless steel appliances and the table had intricate designs in the wood... </p><p>"Jackson, you good?" Andreas waved a hand in front of my face. I blinked a few times. <em>God, was I drooling?</em> </p><p>"Yeah." I croaked. "I need to go to bed, that's all." I opened the door on the right and found two queen sized beds next to each other, with comforters and everything, plus a connected bathroom. I laid on the bed closest to the window and decided that I was most definitely going to enjoy this. I mean, the mattress was <em>memory foam</em>, for God's sake. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna stay here. Sleep for a bit." </p><p>"Sweet dreams, princess." Andreas mock-saluted me before setting his luggage aside and heading right back towards the door again. </p><p>I lifted my head off the pillows. "Where are <em>you</em> going?" </p><p>He adjusted his hair in his phone screen's reflection for a second before answering. "I'm gonna go hang out with the triple A's." </p><p>"Ah. Don't forget to..." </p><p>"I know, I know." He switched off the light. "I'll be back before eleven. You're not gonna get in trouble, I promise." </p><p>I waved him off and let my head hit the pillows again. As soon as I exhaled and felt my back imprint on the mattress, I heard him go out the room door. Ah. Alone at last. This was great. I considered just staying in bed the entirety of the trip. I curled up under the comforter and sighed, letting the tension and exhaustion from today dissolve. I didn't understand why traveling was so tiresome- I mean, you're literally just sitting in a thing while it takes you somewhere and while you do nothing- but you have to admit, the rest you get afterwards is always so rewarding. </p><p> </p><p>I think I was just about to doze off when someone knocked on the door. I groaned. Of course. Andreas must've accidentally left his room key, I thought. But when I trudged over and swung open the door, it was Ashley and Travis. I quickly slapped on a smile. "Hey guys!" I cleared my throat. "What's up?" </p><p>Nakamura returned the smile with her own, more pretty one. "Don't be alarmed. Knightley gave the heads of each department a list of where each person is roomed." <em>Oh</em>. I didn't even think of that. "Travis and I were going to head to the bar for a quick drink. You up for it?" </p><p>I stopped myself from saying yes. <em>You're sober, remember? You couldn't be this reckless. But if I didn't go, what if they talked about me? Yet if I did... would I be tempted? </em></p><p>I shook my head, deciding that maybe another day, I'd be comfortable with sitting at a bar and inhaling the smell of alcohol without wanting it. But I wasn't ready. "Sorry. I'm a little tired. Maybe tomorrow night?" </p><p>"Sure." Ashley looked at Travis as if she was thinking, <em>I guess I'm stuck with you for the night</em>, before the two headed back down the hall. I softly shut the door, wondering if it would hurt. Maybe I could get better at restraining myself if I did go. Well. Maybe not. I combed back my hair with my fingers and collapsed back in bed, hoping to feel better in the morning. </p><p> </p><p>I had just fallen asleep when my phone rang. <em>God, what now?</em> I reached over to the nightstand and flipped over my phone. It was Jenn. </p><p><em>Oh</em>. </p><p>I picked up. "Hey." I said, trying to sound normal and not at all annoyed. </p><p>"Hi." She didn't seem fazed. "Did you get to the lodge in one piece?" </p><p>"Yeah. It's really nice." I thought for a moment. "Maybe when you and Ari get back, we can come to the lodge for a weekend." </p><p>"That'd be nice." I heard the smile on her voice, which made me want to smile, too. "I- I was just checking in. Nothing else. So you can go back to sleep now." </p><p>"That easy to tell, huh?" </p><p>"Your voice gets really hoarse, yeah." </p><p>She knew me so well. </p><p>"Oh- good news. I actually checked my calendar, and I'm off October second through fourth. I can even leave after work on the first." </p><p>"Really?" She sounded so gentle. </p><p>"Yeah." I laid back in bed and held the phone close to me, like that would make her feel closer, too. "I can't wait to see you and Ari again." </p><p>A second of silence. "What about my mom?" <em>Ah</em>.</p><p>"I can't wait to see your mom either, but I'm not sure she feels the same." I chuckled to myself. "She hates me." </p><p>"She doesn't- well- <em>maybe</em> she hates you. But this gives you an opportunity to change that, right?" Jenn was always an optimist, especially when it came to her mother.</p><p>"I guess." I exhaled through my nose and turned on the bedside lamp since I probably wasn't going to get back to sleep anytime soon. Jenn and I talked about her work and Ari for awhile. It was soothing, like we were whispering while laying across from each other in bed again. We were on call like that until another knock sounded at my door. </p><p>"I've gotta go," I told her. "Someone's at the door. Call me again tomorrow night, okay?" </p><p>"Okay," she agreed softly. "Goodnight." </p><p>"G'night." I ended the call and opened the door to find an agitated Ashley Nakamura, a mildly miffed Travis Smith, and... Joshua Patel, the co-head of biomedical engineering? "Oh, hey..." I waved awkwardly. "what's up?" </p><p>"Are any of the Kims here?" Ashley's voice was on edge. </p><p>"Um. No. Why?" </p><p>"Because it's almost eleven, and none of them are back in our rooms." Ah. So Joshua Patel must've been Aaron Kim's mentor. </p><p>Wait. It was almost eleven? <em>Crap</em>. I quickly grabbed a room key from a counter nearby and closed the door behind me. "Wait. So none of you guys know where the kids are?" </p><p>Patel shrugged. "We were kinda hoping you'd know." </p><p>"Andreas just said he was gonna hang out with them... so, uh..." I raked a hand through my hair, hoping I didn't look like a madman in front of Ashley and two semi-strangers. "Any clues? Ideas of where they are?" </p><p>The three of them exchanged glances, but all gave me a variation of the word "no." </p><p>"Okay, uh..." I snapped my fingers. "Have you guys checked the hot tubs? Andreas mentioned them to me before we left."</p><p>"All of them except the North one. It's closed right now." Ashley answered, a crease still in her brow. </p><p>"Wouldn't hurt to check. Andreas isn't exactly the most law-abiding citizen." I muttered as I started leading our ragtag crew to the elevators. </p><p>"Yeah, neither's Aidan." Travis added, shrugging. </p><p>"Or Alice." Ashley sighed. </p><p>Joshua Patel made a so-so sign with his hand. "Aaron's actually pretty good, but I'm sure he gives into peer pressure fairly easily." </p><p>Wonderful. And to make matters worse, when we checked the North hot tub, none of the kids were there, but we did find two unrelated interns who'd snuck in and ended up telling us that they hadn't seen any of the four we were looking for. </p><p>We headed back inside and sat down in the lobby to brainstorm. We only had about twenty minutes left until eleven. "How about we split up?" Travis suggested. "I mean, that's against rule number one of horror movies, but what's the worst that could happen?" </p><p>"That's... not a terrible idea. Two of us can check one side of the lodge and vice versa." Ashley nodded at Travis, as if giving him credit, to which he fought back a grin. "I'll go with Jackson and check the upper floors' facilities. You and Joshua can check the lower ones, just in case they pop up." </p><p>Travis and Joshua poised themselves to argue, but Ashley quickly grabbed my arm and steered me toward the elevators. Once we were inside and headed towards the top floor, she leaned her back against me and sighed, "Thanks for making this easier." </p><p>"No problem?" To be fair, I still wasn't exactly sure what had just happened. To say that it happened really fast was an understatement. "But what do you have against Joshua Patel?" Travis I understood, them being exes and Travis being Travis, but Joshua Patel was news to me. </p><p>She pressed her lips together and looked away. "Well... he's..." </p><p>"He's...?" What?</p><p>Ashley put her face in her hands. "I dated him for, like, a month after I dated Travis." </p><p>"...Oh." So it was two exes. </p><p>"And... they both talked to me about getting back together at the bar." </p><p>Talk about an awkward conversation. Well, I assumed both of those propositions didn't go great. You know, since Ashley could barely make herself talk about it. But this one sure as hell wasn't pleasant, either. </p><p>I couldn't even imagine having two guys fighting over me. Mostly because it's never happened. "That's... uh... so, what're you gonna do?" </p><p>"I'm not sure." She answered promptly. We stepped out onto the top floor and started walking towards the rooftop lounge, her leading the way. "I obviously broke up with both of them for a reason- multiple, even- but at the same time..." She crossed her arms and started walking a little slower. "I'm so... lonely? Is that the right word for it?" </p><p>God. Something about what she said and how she said it- though I couldn't connect to it directly- I felt it deep down. Hell, I felt lonely my entire life.</p><p>Until I found a person who didn't make me feel that way. "Yeah, I get that." I said softly. "But you... you're the one who told me I shouldn't settle. You shouldn't, either." </p><p>The corner of her lips quirked. "Huh. You remembered."</p><p>"Of course I did." </p><p>"Ugh, I'm sorry." Ashley's face suddenly scrunched up. "I shouldn't have said something like that. I shouldn't even be telling you this. I'm dumping things onto you out of absolutely nowhere absolutely all the time. It's a really terrible habit." </p><p>"No," I blurted quickly. "I mean- it's nice, you know? You're able to get these things off your chest, and you give pretty solid advice. Plus, I don't mind. Really." </p><p>She smiled faintly at me. "Thanks. It <em>is</em> nice. I haven't had someone to talk about these things with since... well, in a long time." </p><p>"Yeah. And I'm glad to be here." I nudged her with my shoulder, jostling her small frame. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, are you okay?" </p><p>"Yeah, I'm fine." She fixed her ponytail and punched my shoulder. "Are you? I should ask how you and your fiancé are doing." </p><p>My heart warmed at the memory of Jenn and I on call just moments before. "We're doing fine. A bit of a rough patch here and there, but eh, that's just how it is." </p><p>"Well, hey," Ashley stopped and placed her hands on my shoulders. "Whoever he is, he's lucky to have you." </p><p>"Thanks."</p><p>
  <em>Wait. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hold up. </em>
</p><p>"Did you just say '<em>he</em>?'" </p><p>Nakamura's face turned beet red as her arms returned to her sides. "Oh shit, you're <em>straight</em>?" </p><p>"Is it-" I sputtered, stepping back. "Is it <em>that</em> surprising?"</p><p>She threw up her hands. "I don't know, I just figured-"</p><p>"Is it because I cuffed my jeans that one time?" </p><p>"No! Oh my god- I can't believe-" Ashley pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head vigorously. "Ugh, I should've known not to assume, but I mean, you- you just seem... not straight!" </p><p>I did a once-over of myself. "What does that even <em>mean</em>?" I dressed about as straight as Travis did, and I barely told her about my personal life at all, how the hell would she know? </p><p>"I'm so sorry." </p><p>"I mean, you're not- not completely off, I- I dunno, maybe-" If I knew I was gonna come out, I never would've guessed it would've been to Ashley Nakamura. </p><p>"Hey you two, what's all the commotion about?" Ashley and I turned to find Mr. Knightley, drink in hand, at the end of the hall.</p><p>Before I could formulate an answer, Ashley said, "Knightley, did you know that Jackson is completely straight?" </p><p>I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but couldn't find a word. Knightley looked up at me with a crease in his brow. "You are?" </p><p>"Why is that so hard to believe?! I'm engaged to a woman!" I felt the heat in my face increase significantly.</p><p>Knightley mumbled something about owing fifty bucks to Irene before patting me on the shoulder. "It's alright, son, no need to get hysterical. Perhaps you should get to bed, both of you. Early start tomorrow. I trust that your interns are already in your respective rooms?" </p><p>Ashley and I exchanged a look. "Yeah." She replied nonchalantly. "We're just checking out the rooftop lounge before bed, that's all." </p><p>"Ah." Knightley smiled broadly. "Well, it's real nice. Y'all enjoy it. I, for one, am gonna go get some shut-eye. Have a good night." </p><p>We waved as he went. As soon as he turned the corner, I glared at Ashley. "Why would you lie to him?" I hissed under my breath. </p><p>"Because if he knows we're irresponsible enough for them to go missing under our watch, he's not going to trust us anymore with anything." She seethed through her teeth. </p><p>I knew she was right. She always was, for whatever reason. </p><p>I took a deep breath through my nose. "Fine. You win. We should just go." </p><p>She mouthed "yeah," and with that, we headed up the stairwell to the rooftop lounge. </p><p> </p><p>We were immediately hit with a chilling wind as we stepped out. The lounge itself wasn't much. It was a few plush couches and a glass canopy, but it was the scenery that made it so special. Around us was sheer wilderness, and above us was a dark blue-black sky with actual visible stars. Ashley and I stared up at it in awe. It seemed that she, too, was from the city, unused to such a pretty view. Without thinking, I glanced over at her and immediately knew why Travis and Joshua would be so enamored with her. When her eyes were filled with wonder and her face completely slack, she seemed so... I don't know. Beautiful? Ethereal? She reminded me of Jenn in that moment. It was the same face Jenn made when she was reading an especially good book. </p><p>Nakamura caught me looking and averted her gaze. "I... used to stargaze with my brothers. They were crazy about the stuff." </p><p>"Oh." I hesitated. "Why'd you stop?" </p><p>Ashley pulled her puffy coat closer around herself and sat down on a nearby ottoman. I sat on the couch opposite her. "We grew up, I guess." Her voice sounded distant. Sad. But it didn't really show on her face. "Did you have any siblings, Jackson?" </p><p>Memories of foster families flooded back to me. Some of their preexisting kids were nice. A few ignored me in general, and some... some thought I was nothing but a punching bag. "In a sense." </p><p>She looked at me like she wanted to ask a thousand questions- and she could've- but she decided against it. We continued to sit together in the relative silence. It was relaxing, really. Though really, really cold. I didn't have time before I left the room to grab any gloves or to put my coat back on. I rubbed my hands together and shoved them under my arms. Ashley noticed and held out her hands. "Here." </p><p>I let her hold my huge hands in her own small, slender ones. She was... surprisingly warm. I looked back up at her and she looked back up at me for a peaceful moment, then she immediately withdrew, embarrassed. "Sorry. That's just... something I used to do for my brothers when they forgot their gloves. I've always had really warm hands, you see." </p><p>I blushed at the realization that I just held hands with someone that was not romantically involved with me in any way. Thank God it was too dark for her to really notice. "No, it's okay. Thanks." </p><p>Although I could tell that we both knew we had a mission to accomplish and that sitting here with one another wasn't doing anything, neither of us spoke. I guess we both just needed to wind down after the whole fiasco in the hallway. I was tempted to ask her how she assumed I was gay, but that seemed a little on-the-nose. A normal straight guy wouldn't be so defensive about it, right? Would Travis or Joshua be reacting like this? Almost as if she could see that I needed a distraction, Ashley filled the silence. "I'm still sorry, Jackson. I shouldn't have assumed... well, anything, really. It's a shit thing to do. And I shouldn't have said all those things at the gala. I was... kinda tipsy. I promise you I'm not always a mess." </p><p>I felt a bit of tension leave my shoulders at that tender display of vulnerability. I couldn't believe that I just thought of Nakamura as some unfeeling, untouchable legend when I first got to Abernathy. "And I told you, it's fine. I mean, we're friends, right? We should be able to talk about anything." </p><p>She blinked. Wait. I've only had three conversations with this woman, what was I talking about? God, was I that starved for friends? Just as I was about to take it all back, though, she took my hands back in hers and grinned faintly. "Yeah. I guess we <em>are</em> friends." </p><p>I laughed to myself, probably in relief more than anything. "Well... great. I have another work friend." </p><p>"I suppose you do." </p><p>I found myself smiling despite myself. "So... since we're supposed to be able to talk about anything..." </p><p>"I'm scared, but continue." </p><p>"What do you think you're gonna do with the whole Travis and Joshua situation?" I asked partially because I was genuinely curious and partially because I needed to occupy my thoughts with something other than hysteria. </p><p>She threw down my hands and groaned. "I told you, I don't know. Ugh. Seriously? <em>Now</em>?" </p><p>"Yes, now. You've gotta figure it out at some point. You can't ignore it forever." I never knew how genuine and supportive I could be around someone that wasn't Jennifer or Ari. I also never realized how hypocritical I could be. </p><p>"I think... I'm gonna get back together with Travis." She strung the words together haphazardly, like she was scared to say it. I must've involuntarily made a face, because she quickly added, "And before you say anything, I know he can be a bit much. And that's the thing. I know him, as in, really know him, and he knows me. It feels wrong to give so much of me to him and him to me and then just... erase all of that, you know?" </p><p>"Yeah." I responded hoarsely. I knew exactly what she meant. </p><p>"And I don't know, maybe I can persuade him that we shouldn't have kids and persuade myself that our differences don't matter. Or we can compromise." It hurt to see calm and collected Ashley Nakamura start talking faster and more frantically over some guy. </p><p>"But do you love him?" I asked quietly. She paused and gave me a meaningful sidelong glance. "Do you really think you should settle for him? I know that you feel like you're running out of time, like maybe you'll never find someone who makes you happy. I've felt that before." Where was all of this coming from? "But you're... you're responsible for your own happiness, too. You deserve to actually be happy. You deserve to be with someone who genuinely understands you, not just knows you. And I know for a fact you believe that, too."</p><p>Ashley stared at me, dumbfounded. The truth was, I'm not sure how I could say all of that with such confidence. I didn't even know I could sound so wise. It worked, though. </p><p>She leaned forward and hugged me. I could only sit there in shock. "Thanks. You deserve to be happy, too." She whispered. </p><p>Tears welled in my eyes. No one had ever told me that before. Blinking tears away, I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her back. <em>Holy shit</em>, I thought. I made a new friend. I made a new friend and I wasn't even trying. My heart soared. Today was good. Really good. It would've been close to perfect if Travis hadn't come outside. </p><p>"We found the interns, they were-" He froze when he saw us with our arms wrapped around one another. "What's..." Travis' jaw clenched. "What's going on here?" </p><p>Ashley stood up and brushed some invisible dirt off her shoulder. "Nothing, Travis. We were just talking." </p><p>"That sure as hell didn't look like just talking." </p><p>Nakamura crossed her arms and ignored him. "Where are the kids, Travis?" </p><p>"They're... downstairs." He stepped out of the way and allowed Ashley and I to go inside. When I walked in after her, I felt his eyes on the back of my skull as he shut the door to the rooftop lounge. </p><p> </p><p>The triple A's and Andreas were sitting in the lobby, looking like guilty puppies as Joshua Patel scolded (who I assumed to be) Aaron quietly. "Where were they?" I asked, frowning at Andreas. He rolled his eyes and turned away. </p><p>"Out," Joshua answered as he continued to give Aaron Kim a death glare. "As in they were outside of the lodge, who even knows where, and they just got back." </p><p>Ashley put her hands on her hips like a disappointed mother. "Knightley specifically said you guys shouldn't leave, you wanna tell me why you went against his direct command?" </p><p>Everyone, including Travis, Joshua, and I flinched at her tone. </p><p>But not Andreas. </p><p>"He actually said mentors are supposed to make sure underaged interns don't leave. Not that underaged interns weren't supposed to leave." Andreas crossed his legs. "So... it's technically <em>your</em> fault, no?" </p><p>Ashley narrowed her eyes at him while the rest of us looked at him like he had a death wish. Andreas only met her gaze with a calm one. </p><p>And here I was, thinking I might have a relaxed weekend. "Sorry, Ashley, I'll make sure it never happens again." I grabbed Andreas' wrist, to his surprise, and started walking over to the elevators. Andreas aggressively yanked his arm out of my grip as I pressed the fourth floor button. </p><p>"What were you thinking?" I hissed at him once the doors closed. </p><p>"I told you I was going to hang out with the triple A's." He replied evenly. "And I did." </p><p>"God fucking-" I ran a hand over my face. "You know what I meant." </p><p>"Do I?" </p><p>"I think it would benefit you to stop being such a smartass, Adair." I growled. </p><p>"Or what?" He leaned in so close that I could feel the heat coming off of him, so close that I could count his eyelashes. "You'll punish me? If you're thinking what I'm thinking, maybe I <em>would</em> benefit from being a smartass, Peters." </p><p>The heat rose in my face. "You-" </p><p>The elevator dinged. We were on our floor. Andreas stood up straight again and walked towards our room door. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it for you guys! sorry there isn't much Andreas in this chapter, but you'll definitely see A LOT more of him in the next one! </p><p>ah, and before i forget, here's my email: </p><p>lilhoney1jm@gmail.com </p><p>chapter 49 (if i don't change the amount of chapters currently) will serve as a Q&amp;A, a last goodbye to PWF, and possibly a promo for works i currently have in development. </p><p>you can send in questions (yes, you can send as many as you want, whenever you want, as many times as you want!) that you'd 1) like to be featured in the Q&amp;A (plus your handle for a shoutout on social media or AO3 if you'd like one), 2) questions you want answers to directly but don't want to ask publicly in the comments AND don't want to be featured in the Q&amp;A (please specify if this is the case), or 3) really anything else (including advice, song recommendations, memes, literally ANYTHING) as long as it isn't malicious, because i WILL cry. (jk)<br/>(also i refuse to answer any questions that would require me to spoil the story!) </p><p>you can submit questions for the Q&amp;A anonymously or add your name/username. </p><p>this doesn't mean you can't still continue to ask questions in the comments, though! it might be beneficial to other readers! </p><p>also, if you're a massive Haikyuu fan like me, make sure to check out my Bokuaka AUs and Fics, im inexperienced in writing fanfics but i love my boys very much and just wanted my heart to feel full again after the end of the Haikyuu manga! </p><p>and if you're a massive CallMeKevin fan like me, make sure to check out my Default x Turg fic that's mostly a shitpost but also somewhat important to me! </p><p>stay safe and healthy, my honeys! </p><p>i will see you in two weeks with a new and fresh chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Jackson Peters’ mistakes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters gets in hot water with Mr. Knightley after an incident with Andreas Adair.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi!! thank you so, so, SO much for all the new kudos and hits recently, they've kept me especially motivated recently! i absolutely love and adore you, my honeys!and as always, make sure to stay safe!<br/>today's song rec is "Heaven In Hiding" by Halsey, which helped set the tone for me while i was writing... very certain... scenes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Warning: Some sexual content ahead. Viewer discretion is advised. <br/><br/></strong>
</p><p>Once inside, he grabbed a set of clothes and headed straight to the shower without a word. I collapsed on my bed again as I listened to the shower water run. What was I going to do? He knew exactly what he was doing, I was sure of it now. And it had to stop. He had to stop. Or I had to get ahold of myself somehow. Which, at this rate, wasn't happening. I turned my head and gazed at the bright yellow light flowing out from under the bathroom door and immediately pictured water running down Andreas Adair's bare body. I looked away.<br/>Fuck.</p><p>I had to think about something else. Jenn. There we go. Thinking about Jenn's voice, her touch, her lips. Yeah. That worked. I think.</p><p>After twenty minutes or so, Andreas came out of the shower and, after tossing his old clothes and towel somewhere, flopped onto his own bed. At that point, I was pretending to be asleep. I was positioned so that my back was to him.<br/>I had to start distancing myself from him, even if it was in little ways at first. Yet I felt this sudden urge to turn around and face him when I felt his eyes on me. "I know you're not sleeping." He singsonged.</p><p>I admitted defeat and rolled over. "How?"</p><p>"Your back muscles are tense." Andreas stretched out only to curl up in fetal position in one corner of the bed a moment later. "And your breathing isn't slowed. Trust me, I'm a pro at pretending I'm asleep."</p><p>"Really, now?" I wasn't supposed to be continuing this conversation, however, there was something so captivating about Andreas' voice that just made you want to listen to more, and I was too tired and weak to resist its pull. "Does your father think so, too?"</p><p>Andreas stared up at the ceiling, like he was lost in thought. "No, I guess he's always able to see through my tricks." He turned his head back at me. "Unlike you."</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>Andreas chuckled to himself and switched off the bedside lamp. "Nothing. Goodnight."</p><p>"No, tell me." I insisted. <em>What tricks?</em> Unless he was talking about the blatant flirting.</p><p>"Don't worry about it. Go to sleep." I could hear the smirk in his voice, and that was enough for me to roll over in bed and try my best to ignore him because hell, I really hated that smirk. Most of the time, anyways.</p><p> </p><p>As it turned out, as tired as I was a few hours ago, I couldn't sleep when I was supposed to. <em>Of course not</em>. I flipped over my phone to check the time after hours of tossing and turning.<br/>1:54 am.</p><p>Looked like I was gonna be an absolute mess tomorrow. Truth was, I hadn't really been getting good sleep, if any, since Jenn was gone. I missed the warmth and security she gave me when she slept beside me. The lodge was just... cold. I looked over at Andreas, who seemed to just be a perfectly still lump in the corner of his mattress. He could've even been dead at that second and I wouldn't have known. In vain, I rolled over to the cooler side of the bed. I hoped that maybe this time, I would feel comfortable enough to doze off. But no. It just became warm again and I had to repeat the ever-going process of rolling over to the cooler side of the bed. About the fiftieth time I did it, Andreas abruptly sat up and switched on the bedside lamp. He obviously hadn't been fully asleep, but he definitely seemed miffed. "Okay, are you gonna go to sleep or are you just gonna keep tossing and turning all night?"</p><p>"Sorry." I mumbled as I sat up to be eye level with him. "I just can't sleep."</p><p>"Yeah, neither can I, listening to you rustle the sheets all night."</p><p>"Sorry." I repeated.</p><p>Andreas' expression softened, but only a little. "Do you... want tea or something? Saw some chamomile and green tea packets in the kitchen."</p><p>"No. It's fine, really."</p><p>"Well," He jumped onto his feet. "I'm brewing a pot of chamomile. Let me know if you want a cup."</p><p>Andreas softly shut the bedroom door behind him while I remained glued in bed. It was a bad idea. Obviously. Drinking tea with him meant talking to him. Spending time with him. Getting more attached. And I couldn't have that. But then again... what could one cup of tea do? Would it really hurt? It could've ended up helping me in the long run, right? Hesitantly, I got up. What if he did something again? Like in his bathroom? Like in my office? Like in the elevator? Make that two elevators. I walked over to the door and reached for the knob. Tried to ignore that little part in the back of my head that wanted something like that to happen again. I turned the knob and stepped out into the living room just as Andreas set a kettle on the stove. He shot a quick smile over his shoulder before turning back to his work. "Turn the TV on, will you? It's too quiet in here."</p><p>I did. I flipped random channels until I found one of those over-the-top reality shows. I sank into the couch as I watched some girl slap some other girl over something that was probably trivial. "Oh hey. I remember that one." Andreas wiped his hands on his sweatpants and plopped down right next to me. "I used to watch this when I couldn't sleep as a kid."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"Why's that so hard to believe?" Those words immediately gave me a flashback to earlier that day, when I said the same thing to Ashley and Mr. Knightley.</p><p>"Oh, well, I figured since you're such a rich kid and all, you'd be watching... uh, horseback riding competitions or something." It sounded less stupid in my head.</p><p>Andreas propped an arm against the back of the sofa and smirked. "Okay, for the record, sometimes I did, but that was more because I used to compete than because I was rich and bored."</p><p>If I had a drink, I would've spit it out. "Kickboxing <em>and</em> horseback riding?"</p><p>"Don’t sell me short, Jackson. I also dabbled in ballet, martial arts, and fencing. Oh, plus the piano and the violin." He leaned against me. "No biggie."</p><p>"Of course Andreas Adair is talented in virtually anything and everything." I mumbled, not in contempt, but in playfulness. He snickered in response. "You know, I always wanted to play the piano."</p><p>Andreas met my gaze. "Why didn't you?"</p><p>
  <em>Because my dad thought it was an instrument for "fairies and women."</em>
</p><p>"I don't know." I lied. "I guess I never got around to it."</p><p>"Huh."</p><p>Almost as if on cue, the kettle started whistling. Andreas got up, leaving me feeling cold again. "I could always teach you, if you want."</p><p>I focused on the TV, trying desperately to remember the plan, remember the plan, remember the <em>goddamn plan</em>. "No, that's okay."</p><p>"If you say so." He promptly came back with two cups of tea, and handed one to me as he resettled back in his spot. And we sat like that for a good while, just watching the drama unfold in front of us while quietly sipping tea. I guess it worked a little in making me sleepier, but I definitely couldn't go to bed right then and there. Not yet, at least. Everything was sort of a blur after that. Andreas Adair was considerably less of an asshole without other people around to see him acting otherwise. I remember us talking, and it was civil. I remember saying something so funny that Andreas threw his head back and laughed, and it made my heart soar. To both my delight and disgust. Later in the night, when both our cups were in the sink, we started talking much quieter, and it felt terribly yet wonderfully intimate. At one point, he asked me why I couldn't sleep. "I... sleep better when someone's next to me." I admitted with some difficulty. I would've lied again under any circumstance, but right that minute, I figured it wouldn't hurt to let him know the truth. "It feels safe, I guess."</p><p>Andreas stared at me for an excruciating minute before abruptly grabbing my face with both his hands. "Well, why didn't you just say so?"</p><p>"That- That wasn't an invitation," I stammered.</p><p>"Too bad. C'mon." He hopped up and turned off the TV.</p><p>"You're not sleeping in the same bed as me," I tried to say it firmly, but it came out more squeaky than anything.</p><p>"Quit being a baby, Jackson, it's not romantic or sexual in any way unless you make it that way."</p><p>"Okay, but..." But he was right. I only thought of it as inappropriate because of where my mind was going with it. Sleeping in the same bed as someone that was young enough to be your son wasn't supposed to make any guy feel this way. Reluctantly, I got up and followed him into the bedroom. He easily climbed into my bed and curled up on the side closest to the lamp. And almost as if my body was moving without my control, I laid next to him.</p><p>He sighed contentedly as he tucked his arms under his pillow. "See? Not so bad."</p><p>"...yeah." I croaked. But it was. It was so bad. He was right there, inches away from me in the dark. I could feel his warmth coming off of him. I could faintly smell the conditioner in his hair. I could reach out and feel his skin. And he knew that.</p><p>He must've, because he smirked and tilted his head at me slightly. "Comfortable?"</p><p>My jaw clenched. "Not... particularly."</p><p>At that point, the "plan" was thrown out the window. I knew exactly what I was supposed to do. I was supposed to tell him to go back to his own bed and roll over and go to sleep. Yet he was right there. He was right there and I absolutely could not, for the life of me, take my eyes off of him. It was like Andreas was taunting me. I was a dog, and he was dangling a bone in front of me, then pulling it away when I went in for a bite. God. I wanted him so bad. It was why I was supposed to be distancing myself from him now. And why I felt as if I was frothing at the mouth every time he was near me.</p><p>I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself to get a fucking grip, for once. You're doing this for your family, I reminded myself. You made a promise. "Goodnight." I muttered.</p><p>"Goodnight." He chirped back as he curled up tighter. Fuck, he was cute.</p><p>I turned over so I didn't have to face him. After what felt like years of lying in bed next to him, I finally drifted off to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>In the morning, I woke up thinking I was in my own bed. At home. Next to Jenn. I blinked a few times until I finally realized what was happening.</p><p>I had my arm draped over Andreas Adair.</p><p>Oh, fuck. Maybe I rolled over and started holding him in my sleep. God, but when?</p><p>I completely forgot to factor in the fact that when I slept next to Jenn, I'd spoon her in my sleep. Oh, Christ. Oh, <em>fuck</em>.</p><p>He was so close to me. His back was directly pressed against my chest. His head was under my chin, making me inhale the smell of his hair. And... my thumb was touching his bare waist, my thumb was right above where his sweatpants and his skin met. I exhaled shakily. Should I get up? Should I move? Would I wake him? Would it be worse for him to wake up and see this? But he answered that question for me by turning over to face me, looking vaguely smug and not at all tired. "Good morning, sunshine."</p><p>"Andreas, I'm so sorry," I said as I sat ramrod straight. "I shouldn't have-"</p><p>"It's fine. Really." He chuckled loosely before stretching and standing up. "Just get dressed. Breakfast's being served in the rec center in a few."</p><p>Andreas grabbed a set of clothes from his suitcase and waltzed into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. I couldn't tell if he was genuinely unfazed by what just happened or not, but I looked down at the hand that was on his bare skin just minutes before and rubbed my thumb and forefinger together.</p><p>He felt so soft.</p><p> </p><p>The day went on fine after that. We ate breakfast in the rec center with the crew from last night, Mr. Knightley made a speech about "inspiring the new generation" and whatnot, and then we did some mandatory "team building" exercises, which included us giving speeches to the interns about our great experiences as Abernathy employees, the responsibilities of each department, doing three-legged races, etcetera, etcetera. The whole ordeal was made easier by the fact that I wasn't one-on-one interacting with Andreas the entire time. However, after the day had ended, around six pm, Mr. Knightley thanked all of us for our participation and let us go free, reminding us, again, that our underaged interns are not to leave the building. Ashley glared at Andreas in that moment, but he pretended not to notice. Once we were all free to go, I spied Andreas and the triple A's head for the elevators. They sure weren't leaving the building, but...</p><p>"They're stopping by their rooms first and then hanging out in mine." Travis noticeably seemed to avoid looking at me.</p><p>Why wouldn't Andreas tell me first? <em>Maybe he really was affected by this morning</em>, I thought.</p><p>"Hey, uh..." Travis rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the floor, his bald head reflecting the lights above us. It was quite honestly a little distracting. "You know, if you and Ashley are... becoming a thing... It's cool, I don't really care, okay?"</p><p>I paused for a beat. He certainly didn't express that sentiment last night. "Travis, you have the wrong idea. We really were just talking."</p><p>He laughed bitterly as he finally looked up to meet my eyes. "It's okay. You really don't have to lie to me to spare my feelings. She made it pretty clear how she felt about me already."</p><p>I considered telling Travis that she thought about getting back together with him, but immediately decided not to. I didn't want to get the poor guy's hopes up. "No. Really. Travis, I'm engaged to someone else."</p><p>He froze just as he was about to walk off. He skidded to a halt. "Wait, seriously?"</p><p>"Yeah." It felt weird having to admit it so many times. At this rate, I'd probably have to start bringing Jennifer to work just to prove it.</p><p>Travis breathed a huge sigh of relief as Ashley walked briskly past. "Well, I'll be damned. I still have a chance with her."</p><p>I grimaced as I looked at Ashley, who was practically perfect in every way, then at Travis. Well, whatever made him feel better. "Sure."</p><p> </p><p>I stayed in my room at the lodge to take a shower and then relax for pretty much the rest of the day. Ashley invited me to go hang out with her and some other mentors on the rooftop lounge, but I declined. As much as I deeply appreciated her trying to include me- a sentiment I never got to see very often- my social battery was drained, and at the moment, I just wanted to curl up in bed and scroll through my phone. I would've been perfectly relaxed if I wasn't so preoccupied with thoughts of that morning. It shouldn't have been so big a deal, but it was. How was I gonna face him when he came back?<br/>A knock sounded at the door. Speak of the devil. He must've forgotten his room key. I took a deep breath and got up to open the door, but I didn't find Andreas on the other end. Instead, I found Joshua Patel, who looked like a nervous wreck. "You need to come quick." He told me immediately, words spilling over one another.</p><p>All of the worst possibilities filled my head instantly. "What is it?"</p><p>Patel grimaced. Not a good sign. "I think it's better if you see for yourself."</p><p> </p><p>He took me to the other end of the lodge. "It's- Well, it's a lot to explain. The interns are in Travis' room, and I guess one of them snuck in alcohol."</p><p>Oh, Christ. "Please don't tell me it was Andreas."</p><p>"I don't want to say it was, but Ashley, Travis, and I all checked the triplets' bags... so..." He stopped in front of the door in question, which was slightly ajar, and gave me an accusatory look. "You didn't check Andreas', did you?"</p><p>I cussed under my breath. No. I didn't. I was too preoccupied with myself and with looking at him that it didn't occur to me that he would sneak alcohol in his bag. Nakamura mentioned it in front of me and everything.<br/>Whatever it was, he must've come back to our room to retrieve it and then headed over to Travis' before I could get back myself. "I forgot. I'm sorry." I said pathetically.</p><p>Joshua Patel shook his head and gestured for me to stop in my tracks. "Don't apologize. Just- Fix this." He swung open the door to reveal that the situation was much worse than I ever could've imagined.</p><p>For one thing, there was one empty and one half-empty bottle of tequila on the counter nearby- which told me everything I needed to know already- but to make matters worse, Aidan (or was it Aaron?) was almost unconscious on the couch while Travis frantically tried to force some water down his throat, I could hear Alice throwing up in the bathroom, plus Aaron/Aidan was crying while rocking back and forth underneath a table. And Andreas? He was sprawled out on the kitchen tile, cards scattered everywhere.</p><p>At that point, there was nothing to do. There was no "fixing" the situation. I turned to Joshua and opened my mouth to tell him just that, but Andreas spoke up and interrupted my thoughts. "Oh, hey, Jackson. Is it alright if I call you Jack? Well, whatever. I know this looks, like, really bad, but I can explain. See, we tried to play 'Fuck the Dealer.'"</p><p>"Oh, like that just explains why you four are all half-dead?"</p><p>"Okay, not- not all of us, I mean-" He pointed vaguely towards Aaron/Aidan, who was starting to de-escalate from hardcore bawling to rapid sniffling underneath the table. "-Aidan's doing just fine."</p><p>The Kim triplet in question paused just to yell, "I'm Aaron, goddamnit, Aaron! Aidan has braces!"</p><p>The one who I now knew was Aidan, seemed to resurrect from the dead on the couch just to point at his brother and shout back, "Doesn't mean your teeth aren't shit!"</p><p>Which only made Aaron cry harder.</p><p>"Quiet down!" Ashley Nakamura scolded from the bathroom. Ah. She must've been with Alice. The two boys shrank back. I even caught myself doing it, too.<br/>Crap. I caused this. Well.</p><p>No.</p><p>I looked down at my intern, who was muttering something to himself in a language that was decidedly not English while making indecipherable hand signs. Him. Andreas Adair caused this.</p><p>"Come on." I grumbled as I bent down to put his arm around my shoulder and hoist him up.</p><p>Joshua Patel walked over to Aaron to pat his back, but not before shooting me a dirty look. "Don't tell Mr. Knightley. And <em>get your</em> intern under control."</p><p>"I dunno, Andreas can really hang." Travis added as he tilted Aidan's head back and poured some water into his mouth.</p><p>"Not helping!" Ashley screeched from the bathroom. Immediately after, I heard more sloshing in the toilet bowl.</p><p>Ah, wonderful, now I was on bad terms with Ashley and Joshua, just as I thought that we could all be friendly. I glared at Andreas, whose knees were still wobbling. "I thought you said you could control your alcohol," I mumbled as I maneuvered the both of us out of Travis' room and down the hall.</p><p>"I may have drunk way more than usual." Andreas' words weren't slurred, but he seemed to need to lean against me for support still. He wasn't as drunk as the triple A's, thank god. He was at least tipsy, though. He tripped over his own feet and grumbled under his breath in what I assumed to be Thai. I opened my mouth to say something more, but then I saw Andreas' eyes widen at someone in front of us as the elevator doors opened. I followed his gaze and found the absolute worst person we could've run into.</p><p>Ethan Knightley.</p><p>My boss arched a brow at seeing me practically holding up Andreas, then quickly frowned. "Mind tellin' me what the hell's goin' on here?"</p><p>The southern twang was fully present now, which meant I was in so, so much trouble. It was obvious that he already knew what was going on. It was as clear as day that Andreas had been drinking. There was no point in lying, and Andreas, however cunning and smooth he may have been, knew it too.</p><p>"It's my fault, Knightley." Andreas pushed off of me and attempted to stand up straight. I put a hand on his shoulder to be safe. "Don't penalize Jackson for it, please."</p><p>Mr. Knightley's bushy grey brows lowered over his eyes. "I'm afraid I have no choice. You were Jackson's responsibility, and unfortunately, it seems as if Jackson didn't perform his duty well enough."</p><p>"Knightley-" Andreas began.</p><p>But the man before us only held up a hand and shook his head. "I don't want to hear it. You both knew the rules. Andreas, you shouldn't have smuggled in alcohol or drugs or whatever you're on, and Jackson?" He fixed me with a stern look I'd never seen on his face before. "You should've been making sure something like this didn't happen."</p><p>I hung my head, and, to my surprise, so did Andreas.</p><p>"You two are going to pack your bags and be gone before eight o'clock tomorrow morning." Mr. Knightley stated coldly. "You will report to the front desk, retrieve the keys to the company SUV, and go home. I'll expect to see you both at work on Monday, are we clear?"</p><p>We both gave him weak variations of "yes." Knightley nodded curtly, and in that moment, I could only imagine how scary it must've been for Ben and Henrietta Knightley when they were in trouble. "And Andreas... I will be contacting your father about this."</p><p>At that, Andreas Adair noticeably flinched.</p><p> </p><p>He quickly seemed to revert back to his normal self, though. Andreas Adair simply never revealed a shred of vulnerability or fear for more than a minute at a time.<br/>When we got into our room, he grabbed some clothes and locked himself in the bathroom. I listened to the shower water start running. After a few seconds, some light music started playing from Andreas' phone inside, too. I couldn't help but wonder how he was feeling right then. Afraid, still? Tired? Regretful? I really doubted it, but still. And then there was the matter of how he defended me in front of Mr. Knightley. How he pleaded for him not to penalize me. It would've been touching if I still wasn't at least a little pissed off with him. There was no doubt that he wouldn't know about the whole alcohol rule, or how it would affect the triple A's. Or how large the risk of being caught was. I maybe would've completely let it go if he was a typical teenager, but he really wasn't. He thought ahead. He was smart. But why wasn't he being smart now? What was different?</p><p>The shower water turned off.</p><p> </p><p>It was only nine pm, but I changed into some comfortable clothes and got in bed.</p><p>The bathroom door opened. I heard some rustling. The lamp being switched off. And then Andreas got in bed next to me, like the night before. He still gave off a familiar, welcoming warmth. Admittedly, I wanted to feel that warmth close to me again. Our positioning this morning may not have been ideal, but I'll never forget how nice it felt to have him pressed up against me. That was the best sleep I'd gotten in weeks. I rolled over to face Andreas, who was already looking at me with clear, more sober eyes. "I'm sorry." He uttered, burying his face further into his pillow. "I know it was really stupid."</p><p>I felt myself blush. His mannerisms were so adorable when he wasn't aware of them. And plus, him admitting he was wrong and apologizing was a whole treat of its own. "It's okay. You're human. You make mistakes." I told him, nearly whispering. Without realizing it, I reached out and brushed a still-damp strand of hair away from his face. He tilted his face towards my hand, ever so slightly. The plan shattered.</p><p>Andreas stared back at me for a quiet moment before deliberately moving closer. I didn't back away.</p><p>I moved closer, too.</p><p>There was a certain air about him that I couldn't describe. A look in his eye that I couldn't shake right then. Andreas took one of his arms out from underneath his pillow and tentatively ran his fingers through my hair. Chills ran across the nape of my neck when he briefly ran his thumb along it. Fuck. "Do you make mistakes, too, Jackson?" He whispered. I was close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath. I was close enough to taste it, the acrid, yet tangy scent of it just on the tip of my tongue.</p><p>"I'm about to." Was all I could say before my lips were against his.</p><p>I had already gone too far. Every part of me told me to stop. I was crossing so many lines here.</p><p>And yet.</p><p>And yet I was willing to cross so many more. I was impulsive and I wanted something and it was right there. And it was just as hungry as I was.</p><p>Andreas almost immediately pulled me closer by the front of my shirt with a surprising strength, pressing his body into mine. He parted his lips. He tasted sweet, but bitter, too. I couldn't get enough. I let my fingers slide beneath his shirt, rubbing the soft copper skin just above the waistband of his boxers. He wore nothing over them. His hands were on the back of my neck, dangerously close to going past the hem.<br/>Andreas' slender fingers were cold against my flesh. His tongue pressed against mine. Fuck, I was holding onto self-control by a thread and it was about to break any second.</p><p>I'd never felt so unhinged. Raw impulse and desire flowed through my veins.</p><p>I wanted to run my thumb up the inside of his bare thigh. To finally just take what I wanted from him. To feel him shiver with pleasure in my hands.</p><p>I wanted him.</p><p>I wanted so much more of him.</p><p>I pressed my lips against his jaw- to which he released a quivering breath- then down to his neck, which I'd imagined biting for so long. This wasn't a dream. This was no longer a fantasy. It was real, for once, and I had to take full advantage. Softly at first, I kissed his neck, afraid that if I bit into it, I'd bruise him. Andreas' fingers clenched, his nails scraping against my skin. Right then, I was holding myself back. Just barely, in fear that I'd hurt him. He just seemed so fragile, so easy to break. But all of that restraint disappeared when he moaned softly into my ear.</p><p>The thread snapped.</p><p>I let my teeth sink into his skin. He tasted so fucking good. "Jackson," Andreas gasped. "Ah..." The sounds he made only spurred me on. I bit a little harder, making his back arch just a little, then moved down to the flesh between his neck and shoulder, which was much more tender. As I bit into the skin there, Andreas slid a hand down the neckline of my shirt, his slight callouses scraping against my upper back. Goosebumps raced down my spine and everywhere else he touched me.</p><p>Two could play at that game.</p><p>I allowed my fingers to make their way under his waistband, to press against the soft flesh right above his thigh, then lower. Andreas gasped softly as he tilted his head back. I took that as an invitation. Sliding my other hand against the curve of his back, I pressed more kisses against the side of his neck, milking every gentle moan from him that I could. I wanted to listen to him forever.</p><p>"We shouldn't..." Andreas curved his body into mine. The rest of his sentence cut off with a low groan in the back of his throat as I ran my hand even lower into his boxers. He was already wet with precum. "Jackson..." Andreas breathed heavily against my neck.</p><p>This. This was all that I wanted.</p><p>He grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked it off in one fluid motion, followed by his hands hungrily roaming across my bare skin. An unfamiliar heat rose in me, something that felt primal and <em>starved</em>.</p><p>With a hooked thumb, I started dragging his waistband lower, finally stopping at his knees. I couldn't help but stare hungrily at all of his exposed skin.</p><p>God.</p><p>Andreas stared back with his dark, curious eyes. Daring me. Daring me to proceed. To satisfy myself. And oh, I intended to. I deeply kissed him again as I climbed on top of him, pinning him into the bed with my weight. I felt his mouth curve into a smirk as I did. My heart raced as he held my face in his hands. He wanted this, too, just as badly as I did. My entire body ached to press against his. Into his. This was it, finally.</p><p> </p><p>Then my phone started ringing. God, what now? Mumbling under my breath, I grabbed it off the nightstand to decline whoever was calling, but just as my finger hovered over the "decline" button, I read the ID.</p><p>Jenn.</p><p>
  <em>It was Jenn.</em>
</p><p>Jenn was calling. Right at that moment.</p><p>Fuck. I told her to call me again. Fuck, I was... I looked down at Andreas, at the faint marks on his neck where I bit him.</p><p>
  <em>What the hell was I thinking?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>How did I lose control so easily?</em>
</p><p>I stumbled off of him, out of bed. "Shit. I'm sorry, I- Fuck. This was a mistake." I found my shirt on the floor and slipped it back on as the ringing seemingly got louder, more demanding.</p><p>What if she knew exactly what I was doing?</p><p>Andreas sat up, stunned. "I... thought that was the whole point?"</p><p>"No- just-" I took in a lungful of cold, harsh lodge air, trying desperately to come to grips with myself. With what I'd just done.</p><p>What I intended to do.</p><p>With him.</p><p>"No. I have to... I have to go." I mumbled as I stumbled backwards, out of the bedroom, out into the lodge hall, just as my phone stopped ringing. And I ran. I couldn't forget the look on Andreas' face right before I slammed the room door behind me. It was a mix of confusion, bewilderment, and... hurt.</p><p> </p><p>I didn't know where I was running until I found myself there.</p><p>The rooftop lounge.</p><p>I bolted outside, not sure why or how. The cold, fresh air hit me and brought me back to my senses by a little, but not by much. I ran a hand over my face, through my hair, then back again as I started to pace.</p><p>
  <em>I could still taste him on my lips.</em>
</p><p>There wasn't any fixing this. How was I going to face Jenn again? What-</p><p>"Jackson?"</p><p>My head snapped up. Ashley Nakamura was there. She was sitting in the same spot as the night before, her knees curled up to her chest and concern written all over her face.</p><p>No. I couldn't let anyone see me like this. I turned back around, but before I knew it, she was on her feet and her hand was on my shoulder. Her fingers felt just like his. I shrugged her off, breathing heavily.</p><p>
  <em>I could still feel his slender body pressed against mine.</em>
</p><p>"Jackson, what's going on? You look like you've seen a ghost." She walked around me to directly look into my eyes. Then, in a gentler tone: "Tell me what's wrong."</p><p>But I couldn't.</p><p>She wouldn't understand.</p><p>There was just so much.</p><p>And it was all me. <em>I</em> was what was wrong.</p><p>My knees buckled, and I felt tears start streaming down my cheeks as the massive waves of guilt and the shame hit me all at once. "I- I messed up. I messed up real bad, you have no idea..."</p><p>"Jackson..." Ashley knelt down in front of me to firmly place her hands on my shoulders. I couldn't shake her off this time. "If this is about the Andreas thing, it's okay. Knightley told me about it, and we appreciate you taking the fall..."</p><p>
  <em>I could still smell him on my skin.</em>
</p><p>"No." I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. Why did she have to say his name? She doesn't understand, she could never. "No, it's not just that, I... I messed up everything, Ashley, I can't... I don't know what to do..."</p><p>Her gaze softened. She pulled me into her and wrapped her arms around me, her warmth enveloping my body. And we stayed there for a long time.</p><p>She took my emotions as her own. For a moment, it was like I was eleven again, being hugged tight by my mother as she stroked my hair and said, "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay."</p><p>And for a moment, I believed it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>you're still a piece of shit, jackson lmao</p><p>just a quick reminder: consent is very important! people under the influence of alcohol are also usually unable to give consent, or give consent that they wouldn't if they were sober, so please respect people's boundaries and wishes. </p><p>current upload schedule:<br/>Chapter 18 - September 5th<br/>Chapter 19 - September 19th<br/>Chapter 20 - Oct. 3<br/>Chapter 21 - Oct. 17</p><p>regarding the time around which i upload, i generally try to upload new chapters before 12 PM on the day of. for instance, chapter 18 should be released sometime between 12 AM and 12 PM on Sept. 5th (again, note that i go by the Chicago time zone (huh, go figure)). </p><p>i know this chapter was a whole lot to unpack, but still feel free to leave your thoughts and questions in the comments and i will of course answer them as best as i can as soon as possible (as long as no spoilers are required)! </p><p>the next chapter is A Brief History. can you guess who it's about?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. A Brief History of Ashley Nakamura</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ashley Nakamura is not just a legend.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you guys so much for the comments and kudos! they're great at encouraging me to keep going!<br/>song rec today is "Take Her to the Moon" by Moira Dela Torre, because it helped me get through some tough times, but also because it helped me indirectly decide the sort of vibe to Ashley Nakamura's character by quite a bit!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ashley Nakamura was born during a violent snow storm in one of the best hospitals in New York City. She was born so prematurely that her parents, Hisashi and Rio, were worried that she wouldn't make it. But after an arduous, months-long battle in that hospital, she did, and they named her Ashley, after a dear friend of theirs who helped them immigrate to the United States just a decade years prior.</p><p>Ashley had two older brothers, whose names were Connor and Daniel. They were seven and three years older than her, respectively. Their parents were Hisashi and Rio Nakamura, a product of an arranged marriage as holders of a great family fortune. They loved one another, however, and were generally very happy, though it took a long time for them to become so.</p><p>In Japan, Rio's father was in hot water with the yakuza, or the Japanese mafia. One day, when Rio was nineteen years old, she came home to her father's body on the front porch. He'd burned them for the last time. Rio's mother resolved to save her daughter, and so sent for her and her new husband, Hisashi, to discreetly immigrate to the United States. They changed both their first and last names and officially became who they are today: Rio and Hisashi Nakamura, a couple of unassuming newlyweds from Osaka. They also had plastic surgery done so that they couldn't be identified.</p><p>Rio had to say goodbye to her mother and leave her behind forever, unable to even contact her for fear of it tracing back to Rio and Hisashi's new life. The fate of Rio's mother is unknown.</p><p>Hisashi had to leave his family behind with no explanation whatsoever, except that he needed a large sum of money and was going somewhere safe with his wife.</p><p>The move was very difficult for the both of them, but it was made easier by a woman named Ashley Chikere, who helped them get everything finalized and set them up in their new home in New York City. Hisashi and Rio still had dinner parties with her and her family sometimes.</p><p>Hisashi hit the ground running and used whatever money his family gave him to create a clothing company with Rio. Rio, being the creative and practical one, was able to create novel designs left and right, which luckily became renowned, then coveted by every man and woman in the country. Hisashi, being the one who studied economics for a short time while still in Japan, managed sales, advertising, and finances. The two of them made a wonderful team that was able to build a designer brand of apparel in the matter of a decade, all while managing their children, Connor, Daniel, and Ashley. So much for laying low, right? But it didn't matter, because they were doing well. Hisashi and Rio were able to send all three of their children to private schools, and all three of them grew up to be prodigies.</p><p>By the time Connor was fifteen, his name was known in almost every classical music community as a master violinist.</p><p>When Daniel was eleven, he single-handedly designed the best-selling collection of clothing his parents' brand had ever seen. Out of boredom.</p><p>And when Ashley was ten, she accidentally started the creation of Project EXM4 in her home lab.</p><p>Her version, although theoretically somewhat effective, was also extremely risky to use. Hisashi Nakamura was so proud of his young daughter's concoction that he ended up telling his dear friend, Alexander Adair, about it. Alexander Adair, who was Augustus Adair's father, and also rather limited in his days at that point due to his years-long struggle with lung cancer, told his son about Ashley Nakamura's great invention.</p><p>Alexander himself dismissed it as merely the creation of a little girl, but Augustus, being approximately twenty-one at the time and the sole heir to the Adair family's assets, considered it promising.</p><p>He made a deal with the Nakamura family- rather what was left of it- a few months later in which Ashley was promised a job at any five of the major Adair laboratory facilities in the United States- which included Abernathy in Seattle, O'Malley in Burlington, Cordell in Austin, Jameson in Denver, and Morrison in Baltimore- as long as she allowed him to further develop Project EXM4 with her help. She agreed and received proper compensation, which, at the time, simply consisted of Augustus Adair buying her an ice cream sundae.</p><p>He became one of Ashley Nakamura's first friends, and still is to this day.</p><p>Augustus Adair ended up helping her get into a few academic programs which led her to graduate at the top of her high school class two years early. She then went on to attend Stanford University. Afterward, Ashley was able to complete an internship at her lab of choice- which was Abernathy. She got to know Mr. Knightley, who, at that point, had been in his position for almost fifteen years. Ashley Nakamura was twenty-one when she finished her internship program. Augustus Adair then suggested that she got her doctorate in biochemistry. She did just that. And by the time she was twenty-six, she was hired to manage the biochemical department at Abernathy. Two years later, she led her own team to develop Project EXM4. However, it was a failure. Every trial of it turned out to be deadly, or even worse- ineffective. Augustus Adair wasn't going to continue developing the project unless Ashley was directly involved with it. It had been almost eighteen years after she'd first formulated the concept and a rough approximation of it. That was what made it so difficult to begin with. As Ashley grew up, she would discuss Project EXM4 with Augustus on regular occasion, but she soon learned that discussion did not equate to execution. Matters were only made worse when the amount of willing test subjects started to dwindle and investors started to pull their funding. Project EXM4 had about thirty-three failed versions before Augustus pulled Ashley aside one day and told her it was no longer worth the trouble. Reluctantly, she agreed.</p><p>The truth was, she was afraid. The only reason Augustus Adair showed interest in her was because she came up with EXM4. Without it, what was she?</p><p>Ashley Nakamura was a young woman who didn't want any of this. And before that, she was just a little girl. She understood that she held a lot of promise in a powerful man's eyes, though, and that meant her life was no longer hers to live.</p><p>And she learned to accept that. Her mother was the main one who urged her to take this chance, this opportunity to be more than she ever could on her own. Rio told her, "Don't throw away things you haven't had the chance to hold yet." It sounded much better in Japanese, anyway. It was a saying that Rio's father had applied to Rio when she was young, when she would unwrap a doll on Christmas morning and shun it for being "too ugly" or "too cheap." It was something she lived by, and something she told her children. Hisashi thought it was a dangerous way of thinking. Rio thought it was an opportunist one.</p><p>When Ashley Nakamura was young, before all of the schooling and the training, she was just that- young.</p><p>Her, Connor, and Daniel wandered to the roof of their parents' penthouse some nights to gaze up at the stars. When Daniel got a telescope for his tenth birthday, they started to do it every night. Sometimes they'd just look up at the expansive universe above them. But other times, they'd talk. About movies, about their parents, and about the future.</p><p>"I wanna be an astronaut." Daniel Nakamura said once. He was thirteen at the time.</p><p>Ashley remembers Connor, seventeen at the time (and ever the cynic), squinting at his younger brother and saying, "Why? You as a human have everything you need on Earth, at least for now."</p><p>Daniel shrugged and adjusted the telescope in his hands. "But don't you want more? Don't you wanna see the stars up close?" He was the only one of them with hopes and dreams.</p><p>"They're just balls of concentrated gas." Ten-year-old Ashley noted as Daniel passed her the telescope. "They probably look way prettier from down here, anyway."</p><p>"Okay, if you're so smart, then what do you wanna do, Ash?" Daniel reached down and ruffled his little sister's hair.</p><p>She slapped his hand away. "How should I know?"</p><p>Connor flattened Ashley's hair back down before laying down with his arms behind his head. "You know what I wanna be? I wanna be a surgeon."</p><p>Daniel snorted. "Yeah, I can see you stabbing people for a living."</p><p>Ashley giggled as her brothers quarreled. Finally, when they started packing up the telescope and preparing to get back inside, Ashley saw Daniel stare up at the stars again, his eyes bright. He closed his eyes and whispered something. Ashley can't remember for sure what he said, but she likes to think that he was wishing for something. Perhaps wishing to see the stars up close.</p><p>Daniel Nakamura disappeared without a trace just a few months before his fourteenth birthday. He and his friends were at summer camp, and decided to go swimming in the lake late one night. </p><p>Daniel resolved to head back to his cabin to put his glasses away. When he didn't come back to the lake, his friends assumed he just decided to call it a night, but when they returned, Daniel was nowhere to be found. Their other cabin mates said he never even came back.</p><p>An investigation began, but he seemed to have vanished into thin air. Gone, simply like he was never there to begin with.</p><p>No one saw it coming.</p><p>Maybe it would've been better had they found his body. Had they known his fate. This? This was so much worse. No one knew whether or not he was alive. No one knew if he was in pain. No one knew if he could look up at the stars anymore.</p><p>He was the one who talked about his hopes and dreams for hours on end.</p><p>He was the one who told jokes at the dinner table.</p><p>He was the one who wanted to reach up and touch the stars with his own hands. Ashley likes to imagine that if he's not hiding out somewhere to protect their family, he's up there with them.</p><p>Nothing was the same after that. Connor and Ashley didn't want to touch Daniel's telescope, especially not without his permission, so they left it and everything else of his in his room, untouched and unbothered. Ashley and Connor weren't anything without Daniel. So they never stargazed again.</p><p>Right around that time was when Augustus Adair had given the proposition to change Ashley's future. She didn't particularly want it, of course. But then she thought of how weary her father looked when they came home from the police station. How her mother practically begged her to seize the opportunity. How Daniel might never get the chance to become an astronaut. And she took it.</p><p>Ashley felt like she had to be responsible to make up for everything Daniel missed out on in life. It was why she took full advantage of every scholarship and program she was accepted to, why she gave one hundred percent in everything she did. Even though she didn't want it, even though she only wanted to be stargazing on the roof with her brothers again, she couldn't let her parents down.</p><p>She became a legend in Abernathy's history as one of the pioneering women of the biochemical field. She made new ideas and inventions that the entire country became interested in. She was a legend, an untouchable figure to everyone she knew, even at her young age of only twenty-nine.</p><p>A legend to all except Travis Smith. Perhaps that was the only reason she stayed for so long. He saw her for who she was, but understanding and accepting her for who she was? It was something different entirely.</p><p>And despite everything, despite all her accomplishments in life and how proud her parents were of her and how intelligent she proved to be, it wasn't enough. It never could be.</p><p>Despite everything, Daniel was still missing. Maybe not even Daniel anymore. Maybe dead. No amount of work or attempting to make up for his lost life could change that. No amount of scholarships or academic programs could heal the loss she still felt.</p><p>Despite everything, she and Connor still lived on opposite sides of the country, barely speaking to one another. They grew up.</p><p>Despite everything, Ashley didn't feel accomplished or proud or intelligent in the slightest.</p><p>She simply felt unworthy.</p><p>Of love.</p><p>Of recognition.</p><p>Of everything.</p><p>Because without Augustus Adair, what was she?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ashley is my baby and loosely based on me, pls respect her<br/>also i know i need to edit this but imma get to that after i wake up tomorrow morning :) </p><p>Chapter 19 - Sept. 19<br/>Chapter 20 - Oct. 3<br/>Chapter 21 - Oct. 17<br/>Chapter 22 - Oct. 31 </p><p>love y’all, stay safe, and see ya next time!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Jackson Peters finally does what’s best</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair drive home. Jackson Peters finally follows through with the plan.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>greetings! song rec is "cologne" by Isaac Dunbar, who i think is an overall underrated artist. also, the vibes for this one does wonders for me while i write!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After I called Jenn back, I returned to the room and found Andreas asleep. Or at least, I assumed he was. He was curled up in a little ball in the corner of his bed.</p><p>His bed.</p><p>Not mine.</p><p>As quietly as possible, I lifted up the sheets of my bed and climbed in.</p><p>The pillows still smelled like him.</p><p>I squeezed my eyes shut. But I couldn't stop thinking about him.</p><p>About how his lips tasted. How tender his skin was. How he moaned softly as I touched him. Fuck, he was so all-consuming. Intoxicating. Dangerous, above all. I'd always think I could get away from him, but then he'd pull me right back in. I knew that. I knew that's just how it was. And I knew what I had to do. His internship was only going to last a few more months, but I couldn't see him anymore. I was obviously out of control and a hazard to both him and myself.</p><p>That showed most prominently when, for a brief second, I considered: <em>what would happen if I climbed into his bed? If I kissed the back of his neck and held him close, if only for a bit?</em></p><p>Wouldn't it feel nice to have his body pressed up against mine again?</p><p>Would it be the end of the world if I continued where we left off?</p><p>Would that be so bad?</p><p>Well. I already knew the answer.</p><p>
  <em>God. What was I doing?</em>
</p><p>I had to reformulate the plan.</p><p> </p><p>The next morning, I awoke with my throat feeling dry and my hands already trembling. It felt like I wanted everything and nothing at the same time, my mind being excruciatingly pulled in two directions.</p><p>We silently packed our things and headed to the front desk.</p><p>We didn't speak.</p><p>We didn't even look at each other.</p><p>He still hummed showtunes to himself like nothing was wrong, though. I didn't know what would've been worse, him pretending everything was fine or him acknowledging it.</p><p>Mrs. Varma greeted us at the front desk. Although she was smiling, it didn't quite reach her eyes. I could tell that she was judging me for my lack of responsibility. That was the least of my worries, though. I had to spend three hours in a car with Andreas Adair.</p><p>We awkwardly loaded up the SUV and got in. As we pulled out of the lodge's driveway, I decided to worry myself about something else. Andreas had fallen asleep in the passenger's seat anyway. Or he was pretending to in order to avoid talking to me. I was fine with it, either way.</p><p>The other thing I had to worry about was my reputation. The rest of the mentors and interns, people I worked with everyday, had to know about the incident, considering Andreas and I were now missing from the last two days of the trip. They'd probably see me as irresponsible. Would I be trusted again? God, what would Della think about all this? The only good thing about it, I guess, was that I still had the weekend off. And nothing that I needed to do. Which could also be considered a bad thing. I glanced over at Andreas for a brief second, wondering how he felt. Obviously, he didn't hold the highest opinion of me right then, but was he still confused? Hurt?</p><p>It would've been reasonable. I completely led him on back there. And led myself into thinking doing something like that could be <em>okay</em>. I took a deep breath and focused solely on the road ahead. I couldn't relive that. Not now. Not ever, really. The worst part was that I had no excuse for what I did. He had been drinking, and I knew that. <em>God,</em> what<em> was I thinking?</em> That was probably a question I had to ask myself everyday in regards to Andreas Adair. My throat dried up at my next thought.</p><p>Would I have... <em>gone through with it</em> if Jenn hadn't called right then? Would I have ever come to my senses just on my own?</p><p>The sensible part of me hoped that perhaps I would've. That maybe I could've realized what I was really doing even if I wasn't knocked back into reality by my phone ringing. Yet a deeper part of me knew better. It grabbed a firm hold of me and whispered, <em>you fool</em>. You were completely consumed. You were given the chance to overtake him, and you were about to take it wholeheartedly. As much as I wouldn't like to admit it, that part of me was probably right. I was being awful. I am awful, really. And the fact that I can admit that is enough. Right?</p><p> </p><p>For two hours, I mulled over a lot of things. Mostly Andreas, though. I didn't know how to face Jenn or Arabella again after what I did. Acting casual wasn't exactly my forte. Which was fairly obvious.</p><p>"Park at the next gas station, I need to buy some water." Andreas said suddenly. I jumped a little in my seat. I didn't even know he was awake. I also didn't very much appreciate how he was giving me orders all of a sudden, but I wasn't in a position to confront him about it. I did as he said, and the instant the SUV stopped, he hopped out and headed inside.<br/>Did he even have any money on him?</p><p>I walked inside, too, making sure to keep a fair distance from him. I watched as he roamed the refrigerated aisle like a child in a candy store. Back to his chipper self, I see. I then reminded myself that he was, in fact, a child. Sixteen years old. I don’t even remember what I was doing when I myself was sixteen, but hopefully it was nothing close to what Andreas was doing.</p><p>I distracted myself by grabbing a few beef jerky sticks, a couple sticks of gum, and a bottle of Diet Coke, all of which I'd actually been craving the entire way. By the time I turned back around, Andreas was already at the cash register, laughing casually at something the employee said. I rolled my eyes.</p><p>He could at least act a little consistent, it'd be much easier for the rest of us.</p><p>I waited until he was done to approach. The guy at the counter, who had to be only a few years younger than me, watched intently as Andreas left with his hands buried in his pockets before finally turning to me with a slack face.</p><p>I paid for my things and found Andreas outside, leaning against the SUV as if he'd been waiting there for decades. He was holding a bottle of raspberry tea. "I thought you were getting water," I said, trying to sound friendly.</p><p>"Yeah, well, I changed my mind." It wasn't a statement that would typically be said in a venomous tone, but I still flinched back.</p><p>Right. He was definitely at least a little mad a me. Probably best not to poke the sleeping bear.</p><p>We climbed back in and pulled out of the lot in relative silence. I turned on the radio and let the tinny sound of a banjo play as we left.</p><p>Once we were back on the highway, barely even four minutes after that, Andreas started pulling small, miscellaneous items out of the pockets of his joggers. A Snickers bar. A pack of spearmint gum. A small bag of gummi worms, plus, a few other things I could barely catch. Oh, God.</p><p>"What the-" I glanced at the small trove of snacks in Andreas' lap. "Did you... did you even pay for those?"</p><p>He popped a red lollipop in his mouth, throwing the wrapper out the window. "Would you believe me if I said yes?"</p><p>"Andreas, what the hell?" What else was there to say in that situation?</p><p>"Would you <em>relax</em>?"</p><p><em>Relax?</em> I really didn’t like the tone he was taking with me.</p><p>"Besides, Kyle told me I could have the tea for free." He stated nonchalantly as he squinted at the nutritional facts on the back of the tea in question.</p><p>"Well, I sincerely doubt he told you to take the rest of the goddamn store, too.” I muttered, my mind already racing. What if the cashier- no, Kyle- called they cops? “Also, why would he do that?"</p><p>Andreas smirked slightly as he gazed out the window. "My charming good looks, of course."</p><p>"Andreas-" I swear to God-</p><p>"Okay, fine, I buttered him up, but in my defense, he started it."</p><p>I was barely able to keep my cool right then. Seriously, the prized son of a multimillionaire couldn't be bothered to pay for a few gas station snacks? "I'm not even gonna ask- look, the point is, we're turning back and returning the shit you stole."</p><p>"Mmm, I don't think so."</p><p>Okay. That was it. I pulled over into a random restaurant's parking lot just so I could turn and talk to him, face to face. "You don't think so." Andreas lazily turned in his seat, his eyes meeting mine.</p><p>The same eyes that stared up at me hungrily through heavy lids and dark lashes last night.</p><p>I blinked away the vivid imagery. "This isn't how this works. Okay? Last time I checked, Andreas, you aren't the one taking the shots here."</p><p>He cocked a brow at me. My stomach felt like it was doing flips. I really, really didn't like when he did that. "Oh? I'm not?"</p><p>"You're... not the one driving." Whatever conviction I meant to use had disappeared when I saw the look on Andreas' face.</p><p>He fought back a smile as he deliberately slid the lollipop out of his mouth, his tongue briefly rubbing against it as he did so. I couldn't look away. "If you're the one in charge," Andreas innocently tilted his head at me. "then why are you still looking at me like that?"</p><p>My face warmed immensely. Fuck. "I-"</p><p>“I was the one in control here, remember?” His words echoed in my mind, bringing back the day when his hands brushed against the sides of my thighs and he smirked as he watched me squirm. How the cold porcelain felt through the fabric of my pants and how warm his face was, inches away from mine.</p><p>I looked away and cussed under my breath. How? How had I let him grab such a strong hold on me?</p><p>“If you were the one in control...” Andreas cooed slowly, repeating his words from that vivid moment at his house in the downstairs bathroom, but with a more sinister tone. “...then how come I’m the one who can end your career in one phone call, hm?” It felt like he’d slapped me. “Why is it that you're the one who's constantly at <em>my</em> mercy?"</p><p>"You-"</p><p>He narrowed his black coffee-colored eyes at me. "Don't think that just because I've been rather kind to you these past few weeks, I won't hesitate to make that call, Jackson. I only have to tell someone a <em>fraction</em> of what you did last night. I mean, sexual activity with a minor? That’s not gonna be a great image for you.” </p><p>I opened my mouth to retort, but couldn't find any words to say. Because there was nothing I could say to him that wouldn't jeopardize my career. He was right. I incriminated myself. And now he had even more leverage against me.</p><p>His words from the first time he sat on my desk echoed back to me now.</p><p>
  <em>"I know exactly who you are. I know that you're not a threat to me in the slightest."</em>
</p><p>I can't believe I was foolish enough to have thought that maybe after all this time, what he told me that day no longer meant anything. But obviously, throughout every intimate conversation and laugh we shared, he still held that against me in the back of his mind. He was still aware of the everlasting advantage he had over me and he enjoyed it.</p><p>No matter what I did, no matter how close we got, he'd always have a leg up on me. Because I would never possess even half the power he did. I was just some guy. Both in reality and to <em>him</em>.</p><p>And no matter how much we talked about it or no matter how much I forgot it, he wouldn't. In fact, I don't think he ever did.</p><p>Andreas stared at me with an unreadable expression. He must've known exactly what I was thinking. How he affected me. And he was satisfied.</p><p>Andreas nodded, almost imperceptibly, before buckling his seatbelt again. "We should get going."</p><p>I didn't answer. I just turned the key in the ignition and got us back on the road. We didn't speak to each other for the rest of the hour.</p><p> </p><p>When I pulled up to Andreas Adair's house, he got out and slammed the door behind him before I could even fully stop. I sighed and stepped out, opening the trunk. I kept my distance as he grabbed his bags and started up the driveway to his front door. There, I had to make a decision. Either I let him go and hope that when I saw him again on Monday that everything could turn back to normal, or I executed the first step of my plan: tell him we need to keep our distance. It was easier said than done. Andreas was obviously at least a little upset or annoyed with me. I feared that telling him something like that would be the last straw. Then what? He said it himself. He could end my career. End <em>me. </em>But I had to do it, didn't I?</p><p>My mind went back to how Jenn's voice sounded that night when I promised her I'd stay.</p><p>And then to how Ari grabbed my hand when she was younger and afraid to go places by herself.</p><p>I made them feel safe. And loved. They loved me... and I loved them. I owed this to them, at the very least. I couldn't betray them. Not anymore. Not like this. I could only hope, then, that Andreas wouldn’t turn around and report me the second he got the chance. I took a deep breath, attempting to steel my nerves. "Andreas, wait."</p><p>He froze but didn't turn around.</p><p>"I... we..." How could I say something like this? "Maybe we should... maybe it'd be better if..."</p><p>Andreas waited.</p><p>"Maybe it'd be for the best if we stopped being around each other." Once it tumbled out of my mouth, it lingered in the air like a dense fog. Andreas didn't do so much as flinch. I didn't know if he was even breathing.<br/>I stopped myself from walking closer and instead stood there, waiting to see what he was going to say. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't going to be good. I could only imagine. I watched as he breathed deeply and braced for impact.</p><p>"Alright."</p><p>I blinked. Oh. "...Really?"</p><p>"Yes." Andreas finally faced me, but that didn't help. His face was absolutely inscrutable, and so was his voice. "That's completely fair."</p><p>That... was admittedly not the way I expected this to go. At all. "Oh."</p><p>He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Is that all?"</p><p>"I... guess."</p><p>He shrugged loosely and proceeded to unlock his front door. "Alright, then. I'll see you on Monday, Mr. Peters."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>make sure to leave a kudos and a comment on this chapter if you like the series so far! questions are also welcome as long as they won't require any spoilers! :P</p><p>Chapter 20 - Oct. 3<br/>Chapter 21 - Oct. 17<br/>Chapter 22 - Oct. 31<br/>Chapter 23 - Nov. 14</p><p>sidenote: sorry this chapter is kinda short and uneventful! next chapter definitely covers more ground, though! see you guys then! love y’all!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Jackson Peters finally meets Augustus Adair</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Augustus Adair drops by the facility for a surprise inspection.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>aaaand here ya go, one fresh chapter just for you!<br/>song rec today is "Nicotine" by Panic! At The Disco, as it inspired aspects of Jackson and Andreas' relationship. (Seriously? The lyrics? *chef’s kiss*)<br/>(ALSO PLEASE BE SURE TO READ THE END NOTES, THEY ARE IMPORTANT THIS TIME)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Returning to work on Monday was absolutely nerve-wracking. I started sweating and having to steady my hands even before I stepped through the door. Seeing Della's smile in the morning definitely helped, though. I tossed her the keys to the company SUV, which she promptly exchanged for the ones to my truck. "How are things?" I asked, trying to shake off any lingering... weirdness I felt.</p><p>She typed away at something on her computer. "Oh, the usual, but, uh- today's gonna be a little... hectic."</p><p><em>Oh of course,</em> just <em>what I needed</em>. "How so?"</p><p>Della's fingers stopped moving across the keyboard. Her hazel eyes shifted. "Well, you see... Augustus Adair's here."</p><p>It took a few seconds for me to process what she said. It simply... didn't compute. Augustus Adair. <em>The</em> Augustus Adair, as in Andreas Adair’s father and the guy who could ruin all of our lives in a split second. <em>That</em> Augustus. “Wait. As in..." I pointed to the floor. "<em>Here</em> here? As in, he's in the facility right now?"</p><p>"What the hell else would I have meant, Jackson?” I flinched. She was... obviously a little stressed today. “<em>Yes</em>, he's here. And he's gonna be inspecting and questioning every department, so you lucked out. But the EXM4 investigation's not over, you know." Della glanced around nervously like he'd pop up out of nowhere. Well, maybe he could do that. I didn't know him personally, after all.</p><p>"Hey Della, could I have my keys?"</p><p><em>Ah, fuck</em>. I could recognize that voice anywhere. Today it sounded a bit strained. But no one else would really know that. Della opened her drawer and slid Andreas his keys from across the counter. He must've taken a cab or something to get to work that day. Or, knowing him, a limo. He briefly glanced at me, but walked away without a word. I couldn’t tell if it was better or worse that he did.</p><p>Della raised a brow at me. "What's his problem?"</p><p>I shook my head, partially to myself and partially to her. "It's complicated."</p><p>"Hm. Well, I'll stop keeping you. You should get to your office and get prepared." She turned back towards her computer screen, signifying that the conversation had ended.</p><p>I didn't know what I was preparing for, exactly, but I knew it probably wasn't gonna be good.</p><p> </p><p>As I headed down the hall to my office door, I heard a snippet of an argument in an empty meeting room with a slightly ajar door.</p><p>Empty except for Andreas Adair and his father.</p><p>Of course I knew that it wasn't my place to listen in, but my feet remained glued at the side of the door, just out of sight. There was something about the unfamiliar hushed, but venomous tone that made me unable to leave.</p><p>"-and what's this I hear about an alcohol-related incident during the ski lodge trip? Do you have any idea how that reflects on Abernathy?" I couldn't physically see Augustus Adair, but could feel his presence. He was <em>insanely</em> intense. I waited for Andreas' response, for him to bite back with the same amount of ferocity.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> God knows he would’ve done that to me, at least. </span></p><p>"I'm sorry."</p><p>
  <em>What?</em>
</p><p>The older man scoffed. “Your meager apologies won't work on me, Andreas." His father snapped. "We've already been through this. You can't be acting up like this, especially not in public. How many times do I have to tell you to keep your little meltdowns at home, huh?" I flinched at Augustus Adair's tone. There's almost no doubt that Andreas, did, too. "Just...” A deep sigh. “...make sure nothing like this happens again. Otherwise, I'm dragging your ass back home <em>myself</em>. Do I make myself clear?"</p><p>Silence.</p><p>Then, a voice like the harsh crack of a whip.</p><p>"<em>Answer me, boy</em>."</p><p>After a painful few seconds, Andreas finally gave his response in a voice I almost didn’t recognize. "Yes."</p><p>"Good." Footsteps paced around inside. "I trust that you've been taking your medication?"</p><p>"...Of course."</p><p>A pause. "Don't you dare lie to me." Andreas' dad growled. "You've always been stubborn about it."</p><p>"Well, maybe I wouldn't be-" Andreas stopped mid sentence, faltering. In that moment, I suddenly remembered the look on his face when Mr. Knightley told him he was calling his father. How he was paralyzed.</p><p>"Maybe you wouldn’t be if <em>what</em>, boy? Continue. I'd love to hear your grievances about me."</p><p>Andreas Adair remained quiet.</p><p>"That's what I thought. I suppose moving out has made you a little more... bold. I suggest we don't keep it that way." His father cooed.<br/>No answer.</p><p>"Here." I heard the rattle of... something inside a plastic bottle. <em>Pills</em>? "I got them refilled for you. Take them. Otherwise, you won't get any better."</p><p>I peeked inside, just for a bit, and watched as Andreas reluctantly snatched the small orange bottle from his father. He shoved them in his pocket and looked away. "Are we done here?" He asked shakily.</p><p>Augustus Adair, who was much more blond and tall in person than in pictures, stood from his seat on the edge of the meeting table. Honestly, he seemed more like a painting than a person, his movements so fluid and concise, his features so unbearably clean-cut. Not only that, but his suit was devoid of a single unkempt crease and loafers were so shiny I was almost certain you could see your reflection in them.<br/><em>God, who even was he?</em><br/>“Not quite," he muttered with a small, imperceptible grin. The man sauntered behind his son. Andreas furtively glanced back at him but said nothing. Augustus Adair firmly pressed his thumb against Andreas' lower left shoulder blade.</p><p>Andreas immediately winced.</p><p>“How's this healing?" His father asked nonchalantly. I felt an ache in my own shoulder. I couldn't get a clear view on Andreas, but I assumed his father was touching a scar or bruise. Would Andreas have told him about it? Then, a darker thought that made my blood run cold: if that wasn't the case, then there's only one reason why Augustus Adair would know about it. I immediately shook away the feeling.</p><p>"It's fine." Andreas hoarsely replied.</p><p>"I don't think it is." Augustus tugged at the teen's shirt, straightening the uncharacteristic wrinkles. I pressed myself back against the wall next to the door, suddenly very aware that I could've been seen. "Just remember to ice it, hm?"</p><p>"...Sure."</p><p>More silence. I buzzed with anticipation. It felt as if they were supposed to exit any minute now, but the air was very still. And very uncomfortable.</p><p>I had to do something. I couldn't just stand here anymore. It was suffocating. Against my better judgement, I swung open the door. Andreas and his father froze. Andreas, his arms crossed, quickly glanced at me, then at the floor.</p><p>Augustus Adair, on the other hand, didn't miss a beat. He squared his shoulders and shot me a cold smile that immediately made me shrink back. "Why, hello. Can I help you?"</p><p>"I- uh..." C'mon, Jack, you've gotta think of something. "You see... I... Andreas is... he’s, uh... my assistant." Keep going. "Yeah, and I had some papers I needed delivered to my office since... Thursday, and he... didn't... do that."</p><p>Augustus Adair tilted his head in a way that confirmed that he was most definitely Andreas' father. "Is that so? Well then, you must be Jackson Peters. I've heard so much about you." He walked up to me. God, why were his teeth so <em>white</em>? It took every ounce of courage I had not to back away. Augustus Adair was at least an inch or two shorter than me, but he had a general demeanor that made me feel belittled and... uncomfortably more tense. "It's a pleasure to meet you."</p><p>Based on his tone of voice and how his smile didn't quite reach his eyes, though, he definitely didn't think so. "Y-Yes, um, sir. And to you, too."</p><p>Andreas rolled his eyes a few feet away.</p><p>Almost as if on cue, Augustus Adair turned back to his son. "I suppose you should get back to work. I have a few words I need to exchange with Jackson here."</p><p>Andreas looked at me, then at his father for a fraction of a second too long.</p><p>"You have papers to deliver, son. I suggest you get on to it. And remember what I said."</p><p>Andreas reluctantly uncrossed his arms and scurried past us, but before he could escape, Augustus Adair grabbed his wrist. I flinched at the sudden, precise movement. The man leaned down to mutter something in Andreas' ear. Only a few words, but Andreas scowled and yanked his arm away in response. Augustus Adair chuckled to himself as his son hurried away. I was deeply, terribly horrified. I'd never watched Andreas react like that to anything. I'd never heard Andreas talk to someone as if he was apologizing for his own existence. I'd never seen anyone have even that remote effect on him. I didn't think it was possible. Who did Augustus think he was to do something like that in front of me? Or maybe it was <em>because</em> of me?</p><p>As soon as Augustus Adair regained his composure, he fixed his gaze in my direction. I fought back the urge to flinch. Despite his almost otherworldly physical perfection, there was something else... off about him that triggered my fight-or-flight response. "Excuse him. He's been rather difficult these past few months, I'm sure you know how teenagers are."</p><p>I nodded half heartedly. "...Right." God, why did I have to be left alone with him?</p><p>"Anyways, if I may ask," Augustus Adair continued as he leaned casually against the meeting table. "how <em>is</em> my boy doing?"</p><p>
  <em>You already know the answer to that, evidently.</em>
</p><p>"Fine." It wasn't a complete lie, at least. "He's been easy to work with. Relatively."</p><p>"Good." He said simply. Though I could tell he didn't believe me. Augustus Adair wasn't as unreadable as his son, but I wasn't sure yet whether or not this was a bad thing. "You know, when I said I've heard so much about you, I truly did mean it."</p><p>Oh, Christ. I fixed the collar of my shirt. "You... have?"</p><p>"Oh yes, of course. Ashley and Andreas have mentioned you here and there." As of now, Andreas' father constantly modulated the tone of his voice, but in a subtle way. It was almost all smooth. It was almost frustrating, in a way. I wondered if he did that on purpose. "Andreas described you as... hm, what was the word..." He thoughtfully tapped his chin with his index finger. "ah, yes." He looked straight into my eyes, sending chills down my spine. His eyes didn't look human. Too blue. Too focused. Too <em>everything</em>. "A quote unquote 'hot mess.'"</p><p>"That... sounds about right." I wasn't surprised. But seeing as how Andreas seemed so uncomfortable around him just now, why would he tell his father something like that?</p><p>"Interesting." Augustus Adair had a way of talking that made the other end feel like a lab subject. Deliberately poked and prodded for observational purposes. And it made me itch to get out of that room, anywhere else, just as long as it was away from him. "Anyways, unfortunately, I don't have much time for chitchat. I have a few matters to discuss with Ethan and Ashley, but until next time, Jackson Peters..." He pulled out a business card from the front pocket of his dark blue suit jacket and held it out to me between his middle and index fingers. "Keep in touch."</p><p>I carefully grabbed the card, almost afraid that it was covered in some type of poison. And afraid of accidentally touching him. I had the feeling his hands were stone cold.</p><p>Augustus Adair smiled politely as he brushed past me. As soon as I heard the door shut behind him, though, I leaned against the table on my palms and released a deep breath I didn't know I was holding. Holy hell. There was so much to unpack there. I knew Andreas and his relationship wasn't ideal, but I never imagined a scenario where Andreas was at all scared of him. And... he mentioned Ashley like they were friends. Were they close? But also, what the hell was up with him? Being around him felt draining.</p><p>Poor Andreas. I couldn't imagine having to live with someone like that for so long. Ray wasn't always exactly a walk in the park, either, but Augustus Adair seemed like a whole other breed, like he was hardened throughout his life to turn into some sort of cold blooded monster. I got goosebumps up my arms just thinking about his icy glare. He made me feel like an insect.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> <br/>I took another deep, steadying breath. One thing that was made clear that morning was this: Andreas Adair may have been scary, but he was no match for Augustus Adair. Which was, quite frankly, terrifying. </span></p><p> </p><p>"Um. Knock knock?"</p><p>I spun around. "Oh. Thank god. It's just you."</p><p>Alice Kim squinted at me. "Uh. Yeah."</p><p>I attempted to lean casually against the table, but it probably looked more along the lines of me trying to covering up a murder. "So... what's up?"</p><p>Alice threw a lock of hair over her shoulder. I wondered if she got that habit from Nakamura. "Yeah, so, like, Mr. Knightley just reassigned me and Andreas, so I guess I'm... your assistant now?"</p><p>That quick? Andreas really <em>was</em> on top of things.</p><p>And very desperate to avoid me, apparently.</p><p>I couldn't tell if I was relieved or disappointed that I wouldn't be able to see him again. "So... where's Andreas now?"</p><p>"He's where I was."</p><p>"Which is?"</p><p>"Uh, the chem lab with Ashley." Right. I had to remember that Alice was the one who almost set it on fire. Jeez, and now I had to make an excuse to Nakamura as to why we switched interns all of a sudden. Not like she'll miss Alice all that much, but still. Andreas wouldn't be a walk in the park, either. Especially considering their little quarrel at the lodge. "Oh."</p><p>"...Yeah."</p><p>"Do you..." I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. Hopefully she didn't recon this to him later. "Do you know why he got reassigned?"</p><p>Alice Kim shrugged and plopped herself in the chair at the head of the meeting table. "I dunno, he didn't tell me.</p><p>"Of course he didn't," I found myself muttering out loud.</p><p>"Yeah no, he's been, like, really sus."</p><p>I frowned to myself. What the hell were the youth talking about nowadays? "I'm sorry, 'sus?'"</p><p>"Oh, yeah." Alice said absentmindedly as she pulled a nail file out of her plaid pencil skirt and started working on her right hand. "I forgot you're, like, way older than Ashley." I was, in my defense, only older than Ashley Nakamura by about six years, and I opened my mouth to argue just that, but Alice kept talking, having barely looked up since she entered the room. "It basically means suspicious. Or suspect. That's what Aidan says, but Aaron said that it's just suspicious, and don't tell my brothers this, but, like, I actually kinda trust Aaron a little more because Aidan's kinda-" She paused to draw small circles at the side of her head.</p><p>Ah.</p><p>“But that's just my opinion. Maybe his braces are a little too tight these days. Is that how it works? Probably not. He was a disaster even before he got them. You know he's had them for almost three years now? Whatever, point is, Aidan's the dumbest out of us three, I mean, everyone thinks it, right?" Without thinking, I nodded curtly. Okay, so this is what Ashley Nakamura had to deal with for four days. Maybe I really didn't miss much. "-But also, Google said it means both suspect and suspicious, so I don't even know and when I asked Andreas he said it didn’t matter and I was like-" Wait, she was still talking?</p><p>"Uh. Wait, so..." This was probably not a good time to ask, but it was going to eat away at me if I didn't. "You know how Andreas and I had to leave early?"</p><p>She looked up at me for the first time in awhile, but didn't seem to stop filing her nails. "Yeah?"</p><p>"Did... Mr. Knightley tell everyone why?"</p><p>"Um... Why?"</p><p>"I'm just... wondering."</p><p>Alice stared into space for a minute. Then two.</p><p>For so long, in fact, that I wondered if she had somehow gone brain dead. Then she blinked and snapped her fingers. It was a surprisingly loud sound. "Okay, I remember, yeah, Mr. Knightley told everyone you had to take Andreas home because he was having migraines again."</p><p>Migraines? Again?</p><p>And he lied? I had about a dozen other questions I needed to ask, but was quickly stopped by a knock- and actual one this time- on the metal doorframe. Alice and I turned to find Ashley Nakamura there, a small notebook in her hand. "Hey, you two. Hope I'm not interrupting anything."</p><p>"Nope." I looked at Alice, who was already getting up. "What's up? Did you need anything?"</p><p>"Oh, it's not that important. Alice, you mind if I borrow Jackson for a second?" Ashley asked politely. Alice, who was already on her way out, gave an off-handed response as she typed something in her phone. Nakamura and I quietly watched her leave before she looked at me, as if realizing she was there for a reason, and took the seat across from me. "Right. Jackson, if you're not too busy, I just wanted to ask you if a few questions."</p><p>I nodded, trying to shake off the rest of the morning as I plastered on a smile. "Yeah no, go ahead."<span class="Apple-converted-space"> She seemed to have completely forgiven me for my oversight last weekend. <br/>Thank god for that.</span></p><p>"Great." She flashed me a dazzling smile in return. "So..." Ashley opened the small notebook in front of her and a pen from her lab coat pocket. "Andreas is my intern now until further notice, and I just wanted to ask you a few things about him."</p><p>My chest tightened as she continued to stare intently at me. "Um." I desperately cleared my throat. "Like... what?"</p><p>I had very, very many things I could tell her about him, a vast majority of them being things I didn't want to think about for the sake of my own sanity and self preservation.</p><p>"For starters," She clicked her pen as I had a small mental crisis in front of her. If she noticed, she didn't let on. "is there anything you figured out about him after spending some time with him? Maybe things like his ability to work with others? Or if he's an audio-centric, visual-based, or tactile learner. Better yet, do you know whether or not he's a pyromaniac?" I blinked, all the words she was saying just barely registering. I was going through a whole lot in one morning. "I need to learn how to make the lab as safe and educational for him as possible." Ashley went on to explain. A dark look passed through her eyes. "I made the mistake of not doing the same for Alice."</p><p>The mind flashed back to the afternoon when Della told me she watched Ashley Nakamura march out of Abernathy Labs with specks of fire extinguisher in her hair and an expression that could probably turn a person to stone. It was a wonder how Alice wasn't immediately kicked out of the lab for that. "Well, I think... he's... tolerable to work with. Not the best rule follower, obviously."</p><p>She muttered an off-hand response to that, obviously remembering the attitude he gave her at The Sapphire Lodge.</p><p>"But he's... a good kid. I think. He's kind of allergic to tree nuts. Not sure if that's relevant."</p><p>"No, keep going." She urged as she wrote and underlined the words "tree nuts bad" in her mini notebook.</p><p>"And..." I thought for a moment. "Well, he's kind of a brat. In every sense possible. No way around that one."</p><p>She chuckled, still jotting. "Alright."</p><p>"But he's also sort of..."</p><p>Somehow, the image of him kneeling in front of me, carefully bandaging my hand with a focused expression popped into my head. I didn’t know why, or how, but right then... I decided not to fight it.</p><p>Then another of him wordlessly offering an earphone to me on the bus and letting me listen to his music, a part of his soul. As if he trusted me.</p><p>Finally, I remembered the sound of him laughing at something I said while we drank tea in the comfort of our shared room at the lodge. How strangely intimate it felt so late at night. Yet warming in a way that couldn’t be described.</p><p>"...he's also... strangely... <em>human</em>. He has a sense of humor that's sort of specific, but as soon as you make him genuinely laugh once, it's pretty easy to do again.” I paused. “He... listens to a lot of alternative music. Some indie, too. And..." For just that moment, I allowed myself a small smile. "...he doesn't show it, but I think he really cares about people."</p><p>At some point, she stopped writing. Ashley Nakamura's face had become more gentle, far away. She tapped the pen to her lower lip thoughtfully as she stared off into nothing. She'd completely lost focus on our actual subject and gotten lost in my words, just as I had. I didn't mind.</p><p>As I gazed at her from across the table, I noticed how, from there, her eyes almost mirrored what a glass of dark bourbon would look like in a dimly lit bar. In Chicago. On a cold Tuesday night. I couldn't explain why or how, but I'm sure that if you looked into her eyes, you'd agree.</p><p>After a moment, she blinked and caught me staring. She offered an apologetic smile as she delicately tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry, I just... what you said, it- it sort of reminded me of someone I used to know." Ashley cleared her throat and all the fondness on her face melted away. "So... anything else I'll... need to know?"</p><p>"Sure. He's an asshole."</p><p>"Jackson!" She scolded, but still couldn't fight off a grin. The atmosphere suddenly lightened.</p><p>"What?" I chuckled. "That's definitely something you'll need to know!"</p><p>For a little while, we chatted and laughed in the empty meeting room. Like everyone was normal. I felt myself ease up as she talked to me so earnestly. And everything seemed okay again. For just a few good minutes, I felt... okay.</p><p>But the sound of Augustus Adair's venomous voice still rang through my head and left me feeling hollow.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so today’s update is a liiiiiitle early bc i knew i wouldn’t be able to upload around my normal time, hope you guys liked the chapter!<br/>thank you guys so much for the kudos, i rlly don't deserve y'all... unfortunately, im swamped with school and the next chapters aren't finished yet so i will have to take a hiatus so i can build the buffer back up and get past my massive writer's block :(<br/>but fear not! i'm hoping to be back next month on the 14th of November with chapter 21, so please be sure to look out for that!<br/>i am so, so sorryyyyy!!<br/>see you guys next time! luv y'all, as always :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Jackson goes to Sacramento</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson finally sees his family again and thinks about marriage.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey my honeys! glad to be back, but i won’t be for long! make sure to read my end notes!<br/>if you have any questions or concerns you’d like me to answer, please email me at lilhoney1jm@gmail.com!<br/>music rec today is Only You by Cheat Codes and Little Mix (because this mv was my bi awakening and ig it could apply to PWF)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Warning: Some discussion of su*cide and physical abuse ahead. Proceed with caution.</strong>
</p><p><br/>Thankfully, I never saw Augustus Adair again that day. But I found his son.</p><p>After my third Diet Coke of the day, I walked back into my office to find Andreas Adair. Not sitting on my desk or rummaging through my files like usual, but instead shrunk back against the wall, fiddling with what I assumed to be the bottle of medicine in his pocket. Although it had only been a few hours since I last saw him, he seemed infinitely more tired. Faint, grey lines under his eyes made him seem a lot older than he was, and his usual pristine hair was now falling over his forehead, probably from him raking his fingers through it so many times.</p><p>I stood before him and tilted my head slightly. A part of me wondered what it meant, him being here. Another felt wary. Andreas was a little frightening when he was like this."...Hey."</p><p>He released a deep sigh, as if to say <em>okay, let's get this over with.</em> "How much of that did you hear?"</p><p>I paused. He obviously didn't want to waste any time. Or maybe he didn't like me seeing this... part of him. Shrugging, I leaned against the wall next to him, expecting him to move away. He didn't. "Well... a lot."</p><p>He sighed again. "I thought so."</p><p>I carefully appraised him, looking for any change in demeanor, but no. He was... hollow, almost. "I don't know, I couldn't just stand by and do nothing, Andreas."</p><p>"Well, you should've." He spat back immediately, his voice suddenly stiff and cold.</p><p>I was completely taken aback. I thought he might’ve been grateful. "I... I just thought... I don't know, you... I don't know what's going on with you and your dad, but-"</p><p>"There's nothing going on."</p><p><em>Nothing</em>?</p><p>Augustus Adair's too-familiar smirk as he uttered something in Andreas' ear.</p><p>The way Andreas almost never took his eyes off his father.</p><p>The injury on Andreas' back.</p><p>None of that could be called <em>nothing</em>.</p><p>"That sure as <em>hell</em> didn't look like nothing, Andreas." I retorted, trying not to be defensive.</p><p>The sudden silence in the room aside from the steady ticking of the clock above us was deafening. Andreas hadn't so much as flinched.</p><p>I immediately felt myself wanting to apologize. To take it back and just say what he wanted to hear and let him go and never see him again. But I didn't like this version of him. It just... wasn't <em>him</em> at all.</p><p>After a moment, Andreas quietly shook his head to himself and pushed off the wall, heading towards the door. "Just... stay out of it. It's none of your business."</p><p>I should've just stood there and watched him leave. I knew that. But before he could even reach for the knob, I found myself pleading for him to stay.</p><p>"Andreas, wait."</p><p>And for whatever reason... he did. But he wouldn't turn around to face me just yet.</p><p>"I..." <em>God, what was I doing? Haven't we been through this so many times? Didn't this scene look familiar?</em> No matter how many ways I thought of how this would end, none of them ended well. And yet I continued on.</p><p>I had no other choice, did I? I'd be just as bad as Augustus Adair if I just laid back and did nothing... Right?<br/>I took a deep, shuddering breath. "It is." <em>What was I saying? Andreas wouldn't lie to me, would he?</em> "...It is my business. If... your dad is... you know, if he's..."</p><p>Andreas cocked a brow and turned towards me, his arms already crossed. The first sign of emotion since he got here.</p><p>The air between us electrified with an unspoken tension as he eyed me in a way that sent me a step away from him. “What're you insinuating, Mr. Peters?" He asked slowly, taking great care to measure his tone.</p><p>I gulped silently, regret filling every part of me, starting from my toes and creeping its way up, but my mind still knowing I couldn't stop now. "If... y'know, if you dad is..." I tried swallowing the dryness in my throat. "if he's... hurting... you, then..."</p><p>Andreas narrowed his eyes at me as they filled with a fiery indignation. "My father's never hit me."</p><p>"...oh."</p><p>"That..." He sighed exasperatedly and ran a hand over his face. The gesture alone made him look hauntingly similar to Augustus Adair for a split second. Andreas looked up at me, his eyes suddenly sunken and tired. The fire had burnt out. "What you saw in that meeting room isn't how he acts normally, okay?" As he said it, his voice had already gotten incredibly weary. "He just gets... he just has his moments sometimes. But he'd never <em>try</em> to hurt me."</p><p>"Andreas, I know what I saw. you looked scared of him in there, he... I don't know, it felt like he might..."</p><p>"Then it seems you've misjudged the situation." Andreas snapped back almost immediately.</p><p>"Andreas, I don't know what he said to you as you were leaving, but-"</p><p>"Look," He rested his hand on the doorknob, staring straight ahead. "you're the one that wanted distance. So just drop it, okay? I'm fine. And me and my father are fine. And nothing- especially not what he said to me- is any of your business. So unless you need anything else except for your 'papers,' I'll be on my way."</p><p>Before I could blurt anything else, he swung open the door to reveal Aaron (or Aidan?) Kim already there, hand poised to knock.</p><p>The boy stood there awkwardly for a moment before letting his hand fall limply to his side. "I'm not... uh, interrupting anything, am I?"</p><p>It's like Andreas completely transformed before my eyes. The tired expression melted off his face when he saw his friend and an easy smile paired with bright eyes quickly took its place. "Oh, hey, Aaron. Not at all! C'mon, you wanted to get lunch, right?"</p><p>The boy blinked and his eyes widened. "Oh. You... actually knew I was Aaron this time."</p><p>I was correct on the first guess.</p><p>"Of course I did, idiot." Andreas effortlessly looped his arm with Aaron's with a grin. I tried not to stare at how easily, how intimately he touched him. "You wanna get sushi? There's a great place a few minutes away..."</p><p>Andreas swept the other boy away with haste as he kept talking, not even bothering to spare me so much as a backwards glance.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> <br/><br/></span></p><p>
  <em>Why did the Adairs have to be such enigmas?</em>
</p><p>I sighed and shook my head as I softly shut the door and leaned against the back of it, sinking to the ground.</p><p>Was I really in the wrong to intervene?</p><p>Would it have really escalated to the point where I needed to?</p><p>Did I... really misinterpret the situation?</p><p>Maybe.</p><p>Andreas could handle himself. He made a point to establish that. It was normal to be a little scared of your father when he was upset, after all. Right? God knew I always was when Ray had one of his mood swings. He was... nearly as scary as Augustus Adair.</p><p>I went back to the night Mom trying to console me after finding me in the woods crying. Then I remembered other things, too. I remembered telling her I didn't wanna go back. Telling her I'd rather die than have to see Ray again.</p><p>Almost immediately, goosebumps crawled up my arms and down my spine. I blinked hard in a desperate attempt to remove the images from my head. The feeling I got from just thinking about my parents... The sadness was too much to bear. I couldn't put up with something like that now.</p><p>Not to mention the guilt.</p><p>I thoughtfully, absentmindedly picked at a loose thread on my sleeve as I peered around the empty, lifeless room. I still wasn’t used to not having Andreas around. Hesitantly, I let my mind wander again, as long as it was anywhere else, knowing I was ahead on work. And my mind was led back to him.</p><p>It always was.</p><p>I should've been glad, really.</p><p>The plan seemed to be poised to work. I could get my life and my emotions back in check. I knew that if we fulfilled our respective promises to keep our distances, I could finally feel... better, I guess. Or free?</p><p>That wasn't the word for it.</p><p>Because those were things I already felt when I was with him.</p><p> </p><p>For once, I let myself admit that I missed Andreas.</p><p>I missed his curious gaze, how his eyes were like dark, melted chocolate.</p><p>His easy smile when we talked while no one was watching.</p><p>Hell, I even missed his smirk.</p><p>Most of all, though, I missed who I was when I was with him. I felt exposed but seen at the same time. Almost like I was a younger, more guiltless man again. He made me feel... alive, almost. It was something I hadn't felt in so long.</p><p>So what was I supposed to do now?</p><p>My phone vibrated in my pocket.</p><p>A text from Jenn, asking if I'd booked my flight yet.</p><p>I stared at her words for a moment, thinking about her cool voice over my shoulder once again and how I'd always intended to marry her. Start a family the right way.</p><p>And I knew that there was only one thing left to do.</p><p> </p><p>"Dad!"</p><p>Before I could even turn around, Arabella had rammed right into my leg, almost pushing me to the ground. God, did she get bigger already? I laughed and placed her on my shoulders as Jenn and her mother walked over, Jenn wearing a bright smile while her mother barely even acknowledged me. I'd landed only a few minutes ago, but it seemed my family had already been there, waiting for me.</p><p>"Hey, hon." Jennifer took the duffel bag from my arm and firmly wrapped her arms around me. She was warm and soft and welcoming, her hair smelling like honey. Jenn's mother grunted out a quick greeting as the four of us made our way towards the airport's exit. The Sacramento International airport was huge, with high ceilings and cold air constantly blowing. It almost reminded me of Abernathy, in a way. It was familiar. But also vaguely disheartening. "How was your flight?" Jenn asked as we walked past dozens of other families.</p><p>A pair of dads holding hands with their giggling toddler gave me a knowing nod- almost like some weird dad ritual where we recognized that we both had small children- as they headed towards the luggage carousel.</p><p>A woman spared me a brief glance before going back to scolding her twin teenage daughters over something or other.</p><p>A mother and father constantly checked on the young boy in their stroller while simultaneously holding another two on those backpack leash things. One of said children peered up at Ari for a moment before being urged by their mother to keep walking.</p><p>It made my heart melt and jump out of my chest at the same time.</p><p>You know, I never even asked Jenn if she wanted another kid. Or if she wanted to invest in a backpack leash, for that matter (One for Ari wouldn't hurt in the least), but that was besides the point. Seeing families at airports always made me feel some sort of way I couldn't explain. My hands got clammier than usual and it felt like I wanted to take off running. I don't know. It's not like I'd never walked through an airport with Ray and Stacy- we had done so once when Stacy's older brother passed away and we had to fly to Minnesota for the funeral- but it still felt... weird. Like I was an impostor.</p><p>"Jackson? Hello?"</p><p>I blinked, slowly bringing myself back to reality. "Huh?"</p><p>Jenn cocked a playful brow at me, still smiling. "I asked you how your flight was."</p><p>"Oh." I chuckled in an attempt to release some of my manic energy. It didn't work. "It was fine. The usual, you know?"</p><p>"So... there was at least one screaming baby and one guy that smelled like hot garbage, right?"</p><p>Ah, Jennifer Gallagher, ever the charmer. I felt my lips curve into a grin. "You bet."</p><p>I looked over at her mother, who still hadn't actually acknowledged me. Jenn had obviously inherited more of her mom's genes than her dad's, the both of them having broad shoulders with broader hips to match, along with thin noses, rich brown skin, and intelligent, downturned eyes. The only real difference between the two was that Victoria was a good head shorter than Jenn, with straighter hair and more coldness in her demeanor. Jenn assured me that her mom wasn't always so sour, but frankly, I couldn't imagine her any other way. I didn't know what was scarier, the thought that I had to spend two nights at Victoria Gomez' house or the mental image of her smiling.</p><p>I shivered as we stepped out into the parking lot, despite the warm sun immediately enveloping us. But it wasn't because of that nightmarish conjured image. In truth, I'd actually found myself shivering in weird places and times ever since the lodge, but I couldn't really pinpoint why. Not only that, but my stomach started to feel... unpleasant, too. After a frantic Google search, I mostly ruled out the obvious ailments. And I obviously couldn't tell Jenn and her mother at any point this weekend because I had to pretend everything was fine. And it was. It had to be, after all.</p><p>Even the brief thought of the lodge brought back waves of memories I already wanted to repress. Mr. Knightley's disappointment in me, Andreas Adair's breath against my neck, Ashley Nakamura being forced to comfort me after I made that stupid, impulsive mistake... I pinched the bridge of my nose briefly, hoping to focus on something else- but the gesture made me think of the Adairs and... that really didn't help.</p><p>"Dad! When me and Mom come back, can we get a dog?" Arabella wriggled her feet against the front of my torso while raking her little hands through my hair. I silently prayed that she'd let go of the habit of picking her nose at this point.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> But also silently thanked her for forcing my mind on something else. </span></p><p>In the corner of my eye, Jenn and her mother simultaneously sighed exasperatedly. Jenn gave me a small, almost apologetic smile as we made our way down rows upon rows of parked cars. "She's been playing with Ginger a lot and now she's convinced we need a mini Ginger of our own." She explained. "And I keep telling her that we're not ready for a dog, but she just won't listen, Jack. C'mon, tell her."</p><p>"Oh, so now <em>I'm</em> gonna be the bad guy, too?"</p><p>Jenn pursed her lips. "Hon-"</p><p>"Okay, okay," I chuckled, relieving just a bit of the tension left in my shoulders. "Ari, we can't get a dog. It's too much work and me and your mom are working too much."</p><p>She pouted as I put her down and we placed my duffel in the trunk of Jenn's mom's car. But before she could have one of her meltdowns, Victoria changed the subject the moment she got behind the wheel. "Jackson, isn't your hair getting a little bit long?"</p><p>Jenn glanced up as she tugged the seatbelt over her torso. "Jackson's hair's always been that length."</p><p>Jenn's mother backed out of the parking space with a quick ease. "It wouldn't hurt to try something new, though, would it? Don't you want him to look a little more... presentable when you two get married?"</p><p>"Mom-" Jennifer began.</p><p>I felt my face get warmer as I averted my gaze from everyone in the car, Arabella included. I suddenly had the urge to open the door and just tumble out onto the highway. I’m sure it would’ve been less painful than being stuck here. "Oh. No, it's fine. Um. I guess I'll get it cut later. I probably should." I self-consciously messed with the black curls atop my head and noticed how they went an inch or two past the tops of my ears. When I combed my fingers through the side, I couldn't help but be reminded of... how Andreas brushed my hair back with his hand.</p><p>Outside those gilded double doors at Meridian Hall, when he lingered for just a second longer than needed after fixing my hair.</p><p>His eyes quickly catching mine before averting away.</p><p>The tingling sensation of his fingers running through my hair.</p><p>"Great." Victoria said with little to no enthusiasm. "I know a guy. I can set up an appointment for this afternoon."</p><p>Jenn peered back at me from the front seat and at Ari staring out the passing scenery. "Do you want to?"</p><p>"Yeah, sure." And then for good measure: "I trust your mom's judgement."</p><p>Victoria scoffed as if flattery never worked on her, but I saw the ghost of a grin on her lips for a brief moment.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> I his a grin behind my hand. <br/></span></p><p>Progress.</p><p> </p><p>A few hours, one haircut, and one immensely awkward family dinner with Victoria Gomez later, I found myself tilting my head at my reflection at the mirror. I should've asked the guy not to cut it so short, but I could barely bring myself to not say "you too" when he welcomed me in. I'd never really been to a barber since Jenn happened to cut my hair after my mom passed away, but I couldn't let Victoria Gomez know that I was that much of a coward. So I sucked it up. And now, I was stuck with very, very close-cropped hair that made me look younger than I already was. And strangely, like a darker, taller, but more awkward-looking Jackson Avery from Grey's Anatomy. It wasn't what I was used to, for sure, but I'd have to just look and see whether or not that was a good thing or not.</p><p>Somehow, I found myself wondering what Andreas would think of it.</p><p><em>Stop it,</em> I scolded myself. <em>He wouldn't think anything of it. He doesn't care about you anymore.</em> And admittedly, that thought left me feeling defeated. I let my hand fall to my side as I inhaled a deep breath and took in the full sight of me without my usual hair. It was like a stranger was looking back at me in my reflection. An impostor.</p><p>"Dad!" I snapped out of my trance when I felt a small, warm presence hug my leg. A familiar and welcome one, though.</p><p>I smiled softly to myself and bent down to pet Ginger, Victoria's dog, who seemed to always be on Ari's heels. "Hey, Ari. You like your dad's new hair?"</p><p>My daughter shrugged, her wavy hair bouncing around her shoulders. It had somehow grown impossibly long since I last saw her. "It looks kinda weird."</p><p>"...oh." The thing I never got used to with having a small kid was how blunt they were about everything.</p><p>Arabella squatted down to scratch Ginger behind the ears, unbothered. "Oh, and Mom says to talk to her. She’s downstairs."</p><p>"Alright, I'll be right there." Arabella squeezed me in a haphazard hug one last time before turning to leave. "Oh, do you need me to tuck you in?"<span class="Apple-converted-space"> I offered, for old times’ sake. </span></p><p>Ari shook her little head while suppressing a grin. "Nope. I can tuck myself in now."</p><p>"Wow, you're all grown up already?"</p><p>She beamed. "Yup. Maybe I'll get to drive the truck soon, too."</p><p>I ignored the way I nearly got a heart attack thinking about my daughter behind the wheel and instead patted her on the head and bid her goodnight.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> Besides, I had bigger things to worry about right then. </span></p><p> </p><p>I found Jenn in the living room with no lights on except for the dim standing lamp in the corner. I would’ve been creeped out if I hadn’t known better. "Hey," I offered.</p><p>"Hey." She smiled sheepishly as she scoot over on the couch and let me sit down next to her. Once I’d settled in, she wrinkled her nose slightly, lost in thought. “I'm... sorry. About everything. I should've told my mom you weren't comfortable cutting your hair so short."</p><p>I shook my head and snuggled under the blanket with her, a small action that felt so awkward after weeks of not seeing her. "It's no big deal. It's probably a better look for me, anyway."</p><p>"Well, I think I'll miss your old hair." Jenn gently pressed a kiss to my cheek. "But I guess this'll do, for now."</p><p>"Gee, thanks."</p><p>"I didn't say I hated it!" She sat up to face me, her cheeks already turning a bright pink.</p><p>I laughed wholeheartedly and took her hand. "I know, I know. Just messin' around."</p><p>She breathed out a long sigh I didn't know she was holding while she looked on contentedly. Firmly, Jenn squeezes my hand back. "I missed you."</p><p>I laid my head on her shoulder. "I... missed you, too."</p><p>"Ugh." She put her head in her hands. "And my mom brought up us getting married too- can you believe her? Is it so wrong to not rush into it?"</p><p>I chuckled in response, half out of nervousness, as I wrapped my half of the blanket tighter around me. California sure got cold at night. "No. It's our decision. Whenever we're ready."</p><p>"Whenever we're ready," She repeated, nodding solemnly.</p><p>And I could tell we both thought at that moment: but when will that be?</p><p>I wasn't planning on getting a tux anytime soon.</p><p>Jenn didn't have a dress or bridesmaids in mind.</p><p>We didn't even know where we were going to hold the ceremony.</p><p>Wait. Were we even gonna have a formal ceremony?</p><p>The truth was, it felt like neither of us knew how to talk to the other about stuff like this. Not that we wanted to avoid the subject, but... how were we supposed to bring it up after putting it off for so long? And the question I was more afraid to ask was: did we even want to get married?</p><p>I gazed at Jenn, at how the glow from the TV illuminated her straight-edged nose and cheekbones and how it complimented her rich brown skin. I loved her. Of course I did. I always had, for nearly half of my life. So it's not that I didn't want to marry her. I'd known that I had for a long time.</p><p>Then why did I suddenly have second thoughts?</p><p>Why now was I suddenly thinking that maybe it would be best if we never got married?</p><p>Then another, more intrusive thought entered my head. Why did I think maybe it would be best to leave Jenn behind? It was so cold a thought that it sent goosebumps down my spine and left me feeling hollow, guilt and shame filling every part of me.</p><p>How could I do that?</p><p>With my wife-to-be at my side, my mother-in-law sitting on the back porch, and my daughter sleeping like an angel upstairs, how could I even think to leave them behind?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>When I returned to work on Monday, everyone seemed unusually sullen. Della wasn't working that day, so everything was already off from the get-go. On my way to my office upstairs, I passed Aaron Kim, who seemed to be in a hurry somewhere, his eyes red. Although I knew that he was the least emotionally stable of the triple A's, an overwhelming sense of dread started to envelop me. Something had to have happened.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In my office, I found Alice Kim staring down at an open file, but her eyes were unfocused. She wasn't sitting on my desk, like Andreas would be, but rather, cross-legged on the floor, her back leaning against the front of my desk. When I looked closer, I noticed that under her makeup, her face was slightly red and puffy. Something wasn't right. "Hey, kiddo," I offered. "What's up?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She lifted her chin to glance at me, but shook her head wordlessly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"...okay," I said, attempting to keep my voice light. "anything to report?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"No." She replied primly, her voice unusually hoarse.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I didn't know what had happened, but I didn't want to press her. She seemed to have a lot on her mind.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>On my way to the break room, Aidan Kim has rushed past me. He didn't look like he'd been crying, like his siblings, but he definitely seemed upset. I parted my lips to manage a greeting, but he was already gone before I could think of what to say.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And now I was concerned. All three triple A's were acting strangely. They weren't the most typical kids, but I didn't think a small or insignificant event could shake them so badly. I figured something big had to have happened while I was gone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In the break room, I found Ashley Nakamura and Mr. Knightley discussing something near the water cooler in hushed tones. And carefully, I entered without them noticing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"-breaking it to the other employees. Obviously, the Kim triplets already know, but..." Mr. Knightley murmured as he took a sip of water from a styrofoam cup.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'm still worried." Ashley whispered. She still hadn't looked up from the mug of coffee she clenched with both hands near her chest. "I mean, Jackson really cared about that kid. How are we gonna tell him specifically?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>At that, my heart dropped. There was only one kid they could've been talking about.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"What happened to Andreas?" I croaked from the other side of the room.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mr. Knightley and Ashley spun around, their eyes wide. They exchanged looks.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Quickly, my boss cleared his throat and set his water down on a counter nearby. "Ah, there you are, Peters... ah, we... we were hoping we'd have a little more time to break this to you, but- well, we- we're so sorry to tell you this, but..."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I swallowed hard, the dryness in my throat quickly spreading to my mouth. "What? What is it?" I hated sounding so desperate, so pathetic, but I needed to know what happened to him. "What is it?" I asked, louder.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ashley laid a gentle hand on the older man's shoulder and nodded to him. Then she met my gaze with an even softer gaze. "Jackson... we should probably tell you that... well, there's no easy way to say this, but... Andreas Adair, he... committed suicide on Friday night."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The news hit me like a ton of bricks. I stared at the both of them, at their genuine sorrowful expressions, and started laughing. "This- this is a joke, right? A prank? You guys are kidding... right?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ashley pressed her lips together and looked away. "We know it's hard to process, Jackson, but-"</em>
</p><p><em>I shook my head, backing away slowly. No. That couldn't be true. He'd never...</em> this couldn't happen. He was fine. He was alive. He was okay. He had to be.</p><p>
  <em>"Peters-" Mr. Knightley began.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"No, this... I can't..." I stumbled out of the room, my knees failing to hold me up as I felt a numbness take over my mind and drip down to my chest. It couldn't be true. It couldn't be...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please, please no. I thought. I never got to make up with him. Was it... did he do it because of me?</em>
</p><p>Did I do this to him?</p><p>Bile started rising in my throat.</p><p>No. Please, no.</p><p>
  <em>I heard Ashley and Mr. Knightley call after me, but I couldn't stay. I couldn't... I didn't know what to do with myself. I was overcome by profuse grief all at once, all of it overtaking me like an icy ocean.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I was drowning.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I was sinking as the waves crashed above me, and all I could do was watch as all the air exited my burning lungs.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Drowning.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sinking.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Freezing.</em>
</p><p>Dying.</p><p> </p><p>I bolted upright, sweat covering every inch of me.</p><p>Clutching at my chest, I forced air in and out of lungs, but it all felt terribly cold and liquid. I was still drowning. It felt as if I was still drowning. My heart raced as I tried desperately to calm myself.</p><p>I was okay. I was okay. I was okay.</p><p>I was in Sacramento.</p><p>I hadn't gone back to Seattle yet.</p><p>It wasn't real, Jack.</p><p>It was a dream.</p><p>It wasn't <em>real</em>.</p><p>My eyes frantically darted around My surroundings. I needed to center myself. A wall clock ticked above me and Jenn in bed. Jenn laid peacefully next to me, asleep. Outside, the tree in the backyard swayed with the gentle breeze.</p><p>And it somehow calmed me, with the sound of leaves rustling against one another.</p><p>Reminding me of reality.</p><p>And I found it in myself to breathe.</p><p>In. Out. In. Out. Slowly and deeply, until the burning of bile in my throat had subsided just a bit and my heart had slowed down to something near it's normal speed.</p><p>I was safe.</p><p>I was okay.</p><p>I was alive.</p><p>But was Andreas?</p><p>Desperately, in the dark, I fumbled around the surface of the nightstand, but when my hand couldn't find my phone, my heart rate rose once again as I felt around for it even quicker. The instant my hand hit the familiar, cool metal of my phone, I slid out of bed and opened my contact list, my thumb not even hovering over Andreas' name for a millisecond before pressing it. As the phone rang once, I was shutting the door softly behind me and hoping Jenn wouldn't notice I was gone. As I heard the fourth ring, I was walking through the living room and sliding open the back door.</p><p>Please pick up.</p><p>Please be <em>okay.</em></p><p>And in the middle of the fifth and final ring, Andreas picked up.</p><p>A wave of warm relief washed over me as I paced along the pavement.</p><p>"...Mr. Peters?"</p><p>I'd never felt so goddamn happy to heard his voice. I laughed, easing my nerves. "Oh, thank god. You're okay." I released a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Fuck. Thank <em>god</em> you're okay."</p><p>"Um. Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"</p><p>He sounded almost annoyed, but I didn't care.</p><p>I didn't care at that moment how crazy I sounded or looked. I was just glad to know that it really just was some unreasonable dream. That he was alive and well. "I... no reason. No reason at all, I just... I wanted to check up on you. That's all."</p><p>"Oh." He sounded genuinely surprised. I supposed he had a right to be, since I already promised I'd stay away from him. His voice softened, only slightly. "Well... thank you. But yes, I'm okay, Mr. Peters."</p><p>I half-expected a snarky remark afterward, but I guess we weren't really going to be in a position to be so friendly with one another anymore.</p><p>As long as he's okay, I thought. That's what mattered. "How..." I cleared my throat. "How are you?"</p><p>Andreas paused, but not for too long. "I'm... about as good as I can be, I guess." I heard ice clinking against glass on his side. He must've been drinking again. And to be fair, after the few days we'd had, I didn't blame him. "What about you, Mr. Peters?"</p><p>I thought on this for a bit before answering. "I'm okay."</p><p>"That's good."</p><p>"...yeah." I responded hoarsely. I wish we could be the way we were again.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> I wanted to talk to him, like <em>really</em> talk.</span></p><p>"So... is that all?"</p><p>Although a part of me told me to say our goodbyes now and go back to sleep, to Jenn... I wondered what one night of ignoring the rules would do. It couldn't hurt, right? I needed to keep talking to him to calm down. I needed to make sure he would be okay.</p><p>"Could you..." My throat tightened. "Could you stay on call with me? Just for a little bit? It's- It's nice hearing your voice."</p><p>Even from here, where I couldn't see him, I could feel his demeanor soften, just a bit. Whatever coldness he'd expressed in our last conversation had melted away and washed off completely.</p><p>"Okay," He said softly.</p><p>And in that moment, I realized the word I was looking for that day in my office as I thought about a life away from Andreas. As I thought about what would happen if my plan actually came to fruition and I was able to finally stop thinking about him.</p><p>And I realized that I'd only feel less guilty.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you guys so, so much for all the support! unfortunately, im gonna have to take another hiatus :( </p><p>throughout this chapter, i was suffering from major writer's block (and have been for WEEKS)! i don't know when i can implement a regular schedule again, but im looking to do it maybe near the end of december or january, after i had more time to further develop the story and build a buffer of chapters. </p><p>i cannot give an exact date on when the next chapter will be released, but i am tentatively looking at Dec. 26 - Jan. 9 or so?<br/>again, so sorry!! thank you guys for being patient with me and for continuing to support PWF, though! </p><p>if you're a massive Haikyuu fan like me, be sure to check out my Bokuaka AUs and Fics, along with my BokuAka Yakuza AU, which should be updating sometime near the end of Nov. or in Dec.! </p><p>(also, this chapter may be a liiittle rough, but im looking to revise it in a bit)</p><p>love y'all!! stay safe, my honeys! i will see you next time, and THIS time, i will try to come back bigger and stronger than ever!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Jackson Peters spirals (again)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters makes another grave mistake.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>immmm backkkkkk!!!! good news, guys! i can write more comfortably now! hope you guys enjoy! it’s great to be back, and thank you so, so much for waiting so patiently! love y'all!! (but make sure to read my end notes!!)<br/>(oh yeah and sorry if quality isn't up to par, im working on revisions for PWF as a whole and will be continually doing this as it goes on!)<br/>song rec today is “The Wolf” by SIAMES (it is SO fitting to the events and themes of this chapter, please listen to it!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Warning: Explicit sexual content ahead. Reader discretion is advised. </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>On my last afternoon in Sacramento, we made tamales with Jenn's mother. While Jenn, Victoria, and I worked in the kitchen, Ari stayed out of the way by playing outside in the backyard with Ginger. Lucky for me, Victoria, despite it being her birthday, had already done all the harder stuff that morning, so all I had to worry about was not looking like a failure while assembling the damn things. Which I was already failing at, while Victoria and Jenn seemed to put them like it was second nature. I was always either putting a little too much or too little dough or not wrapping the whole thing correctly, to the point where sometimes Jenn would wordlessly take the disasters from my hands and fix them herself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just don't overthink it." She offered, her voice bright.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Um. Thanks?" As much as my fiancée's enthusiasm was appreciated, I was afraid I was already a lost cause. "But maybe I should just let the experts handle it." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No way, you've gotta learn." Jenn pouted at me. I refrained from laughing. She looked just like Arabella when she didn’t get her way. "Besides, we've gotta pass on the tradition to Ari, and if you learn, too, that might help." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I hated that she was right. I wish I could just admit that I wanted to quit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Remind me again how the two of you met?" Victoria gruffly asked, changing the subject entirely. Not that she seemed to mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenn and I exchanged looks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>You tell her</em>, she said with her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I looked at her exasperatedly. <em>But your mom scares me.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenn pursed her lips, almost imperceptibly. <em>Jackson!</em> </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I sighed inwardly and looked over at Victoria Gomez, who, oblivious to the whole thing, continued to flawlessly spread filling into corn husks. "Well," I started slowly. "I first met Jenn when- well, actually, I first saw Jenn at orientation, but I didn't want to say anything. And then there was this guy at the time who was my friend- Tyler, right? He actually pointed her out to me in the crowd and-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Whoa whoa whoa," Jenn interrupted, halfway into wrapping a tamale of her own. "You should start when we actually met. You always spin the Tyler story to make you seem like the good guy!" Her face was smiling, but her tone was mildly accusatory. Just like those few years before Arabella was born. I knew it wasn’t a good idea, especially in front of her mom, but I took that as a challenge. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I was!" I said defensively.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Jury's still out on that one, Jackson. Everyone else has a different story of what happened." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, but I-" Not this again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Victoria cleared her throat. "Just get to the point." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenn and I exchanged looks, suddenly ashamed we were arguing in front of her mother over something so trivial. "Ah." I rubbed the back of my neck, the itch in my throat getting more intense by the second. Glancing outside, I watched Ari lay in the grass with Ginger. I wish I could've been out there with them instead. "Well, basically, we were at a party and I came up to talk to her." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You went to parties?" Victoria side-eyed her daughter in a way that had to either mean "you went to <em>parties</em>?" or "<em>you</em> went to parties?" With Victoria Gomez, it wasn't easy to tell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenn shrugged in response, suddenly staring down the corn husk in her hands. "Yeah, I got dragged there by one of my friends. Never went to another one, though. They weren't really my thing." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was definitely a lie. But Jenn shot me a look from behind her mom that told me everything I needed to know. That much I could catch a hint about, at least. Victoria grunted faintly in response as she folded the last corn husk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I racked my brain for the exact moment we met.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frat party. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cheesy pick up line.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her laugh, which was somewhat laced with pity, but still as clear as day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How could I not have fallen in love with her at that moment? I couldn't even fight away the fond smile on my face. Man... how did I ever think, even for a second, that I could leave her? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who was I to do that? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I glanced over at her while she bickered casually with her mom about how long to steam the tamales. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The way her dark brown hair was down and flowing against her deeply tanned shoulders. How her lips always defaulted to a wonderful, whimsical smile. The shape of her voice when she said my name. I loved her. I did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I always had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And somewhere within me, I always would. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Since Victoria Gomez wasn't the type to blow out birthday candles, we simply had dinner, wished her a happy birthday, and gave her a quick gift. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few days before, Jenn had sent me pictures of a few bracelets she thought her mom might like from a jewelry store nearby, and we both agreed on one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a fitted one with a thin, dark gold chain and the occasional emerald to adorn the outside. Jenn said emeralds were her favorite, so I trusted her. Plus, it was at a length where it wouldn't bother her if she was gardening or cooking or whatever. In other words, it was the closest thing to perfect we could find. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When we presented the velvet box to Victoria, she scowled. "You don't have to give me gifts anymore, you know." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We know," Jenn chirped, beaming. "but Jackson and I just thought it would be nice to get one for you anyways. You've been teaching Ari more than she's ever learned at a conventional school, and you only turn seventy-one once, right?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't remind me," her mother muttered in response as she reached over Ari's head to open her present. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she pried lid upwards, her rich brown eyes didn't widen, but she did seem surprised nonetheless. "Huh. Not bad." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenn and I exchanged glances and shared a chuckle. "You're welcome, Mom." Jenn stepped forward to hug her, plus Ari, who sat in her lap. Slowly, Victoria accepted it and used one arm to return the embrace. My heart warmed at the sight. Maybe Jenn's mother had a heart after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Victoria's eyes shifted to me. "Ah, what the hell- come on in, Jackson." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I glanced about, like there would be some other Jackson who was standing awkwardly to the side of the dinner table that she could be referring to. "Oh. Um. Really?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes. Hurry up before I change my mind." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenn wordlessly looked over, eyes bright, and reached out an arm to me. And without even thinking about it for a second, I took it and hugged my family in a tight embrace. I could've cried if I didn't think I'd automatically be shamed for it by my future mother-in-law. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a small, tender moment, it's like I had everything I needed. I believed that maybe it would be easy to stay now that I knew what I already had. All was going well. All was going to stay that way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or so I believed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>While I slept, I saw beautiful yet haunting images, as if I were flipping through a photo album. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My mom as she brushed the dirt off her hands after a hard day's work in the garden.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My dad as he sat at the kitchen table, sipping black coffee with his reading glasses on the tip of his nose as he flipped through the daily gazette. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The cool hues of a raging college party reflecting off the shoulders of a woman with her hair done up and a red solo cup in her hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The tears in her eyes as I proposed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arabella as she took her first few steps before collapsing into my arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then it seemed to turn sour from there.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I felt the rain of the first day we moved to Seattle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I saw the intimidating façade of Abernathy Labs and the gossiping eyes of the people inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I relived everything, up until that moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When it all became </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>about</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Him. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andreas. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andreas as he smirked at me for the first time. The subtle lilt of his voice the first day in my office. The rise and fall of his chest in the elevator. How his calculating gaze seemed to soften, if only slightly, when his eyes were fixed on me. His delicate, calloused touch when he held my hand and dabbed it with ointment. The contagious laughter we shared in private, away from the glimpses of those who wouldn't understand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Then, suddenly, we were in bed at the lodge again. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yet it was like he was the only thing that existed, lying underneath me, pinned underneath my weight. The same position we were in before Jenn called. It all felt... so <em>real</em>. Too real. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes, dark and curious in the dim light. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His nimble fingers, tracing my skin like he's known it all his life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His sweet lips in the shape of my name. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His touch, burning with longing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The echo of his voice, teasing yet sincere at the same time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything about him, all-encompassing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I wanted to think. This isn't what I want. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But when I saw him touching me, pressing a palm against my chest, or a fingernail against my back, or his lips against my brow, I felt an indescribable flame overtake every inch of my skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In return, this version of Andreas Adair smirked. That smirk. That damned smirk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No. I was doing so well. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I hadn't thought of him like that in awhile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn't do this. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not again.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>I opened my mouth in an attempt to protest, but found no voice. There was nothing there to harness and form into words. Like I never could have spoken to begin with. Andreas tilted his head at me- and for a flicker, I could've sworn I saw Augustus Adair in his stead. The terribly familiar smirk spread across his face. "What's wrong? You have cold feet all of a sudden?" His lips brushed against the side of my neck, only leaving me yearning for more. "You were so eager to fuck me before..." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I can't. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This isn't happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I won't. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His dark eyes glimmered in the faint glow of the moon outside as his lips curved even more. "Oh, don't worry... I won't tell a soul." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shook my head. No. Even still... "You're..." I pushed the air out of my lungs in the shape of words, finding myself dizzy after only one word. "Not... real..." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>None of this is. It can’t be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I tried to move away from him, away from his heat, but found myself drawn to him nonetheless. I couldn’t do anything. I was at his mercy. Again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andreas let a slender hand slide down my chest, then lower. I trembled with the thought of him touching me like that over my entire body. Then worse- I thought about what it’d be like to explore his as well. "Oh, but doesn't this feel real?" He cooed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, he wrapped a leg around my waist, pulling himself up to rub against my lower half. I hissed under my breath at the sudden skin-to-skin contact. He was warm, so warm, and he pressed hard against my hips with his own. Fuck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was being way too tempted right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel real, Jack?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My heart raced as I took in the sight of him splayed out beneath me. Ready for me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A horrible, fleeting thought crossed my mind, and I wondered, if he isn’t real, what harm would it be to indulge myself just for one night? It doesn’t matter, right? It’s just a dream. Only a dream. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For one, small second, I leaned down, his scent strengthening as I did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fact that I wanted him, craved him more than anything… that enough showed how much I’d lost control. I was letting myself spiral again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet, as if I wasn’t moving of my own accord, I brushed my lips against the tanned skin at the hollow of his throat. My breath hitched as his fluttered. How much further could I go? I wanted to stop. I had to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But… he was right there. He was right there, and I was telling myself I couldn’t have him? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, gently, I let my hand trace down the subtle curve of his spine, then to the side to rest on his hip. This action felt deliberate. It was my own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andreas stared up at me expectantly. He slowly licked his lips and smiled wickedly as he relished in my persistent gaze on them. “<em>Jackson…</em>” He purred. God, I hated when he did that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then why did heat pool into the pit of my stomach and simmer there? Why did I have to restrain every inch of my being from just… indulging in him? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I squeezed my eyes shut. I shook my head. I shouldn’t…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then Andreas cupped my face with his hands and tilted his head at me, eyes flooded with desire, and it was like it was all over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was always him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So if I could just let myself go for a little while… just to quench my curiosity… would that be okay? Could I be normal again afterward? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His fingers slid across the back of my neck, sending chills down my spine. He didn’t say it, but I could hear the words, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what are you waiting for? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My hands pinned down his slender waist with ease. His eyes widened briefly at the show of force. But then he chuckled, low and sultry, and pulled my head down so his lips brushed against mine when he cooed, “Good boy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andreas’ breath, warm and moist, beckoned me closer. As if from instinct, I closed the gap between us and slipped my tongue past his lips to taste him. Desperately, his tongue rubbed against mine as he seemed to unravel in my hands. Every inch of me itched to touch every inch of him. For starters, though, I bit his bottom lip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gave out a breathy moan in response. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My eyes ran down his body, taking in every detail that I somehow conjured up… and stopped when I found that he was… already wet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leaned in to murmur in my ear, “Go ahead and put it in, Jack… I’ve been waiting for so long already.” I couldn’t look away as a clear, slick fluid dripped out of him and onto the sheets. That fraction of a second where I hesitated, though, was enough for him to get impatient with me. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed me by the shoulders and flipped me so that I was underneath him. Andreas smirked at the expression on my face as I looked up at him, his face inches from mine. “Fine. I’ll do it myself, then.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before I could even think to protest, I found my member buried deep inside him, all the way to the base. “Fuck,” I groaned as his warm flesh enveloped me with no resistance. Waves of pleasure and stimulation hit me all at once as he lowered himself all the way. Andreas whimpered as I bottomed out, but otherwise didn’t complain in the least. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Who’s the good boy now? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He groaned softly- an indescribably satisfying sound- as I traced my hands up his thighs and let them rest on his hips, which had so obediently locked into mine. Andreas visibly trembled on top of me as he took me in completely, his eyebrows knit and his eyes squeezed closed. For a second, he had to pause to lean forward on his palms, which rested on my shoulders, while his body adjusted to the sudden intrusion. Taking steadying breaths, he raised himself up again using his knees on either side of me, then thrust me into him once more. This time, he cried out in what sounded like both pain and ecstasy. His lips looked good when they were wide open like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I gasped as his opening clenched harder around me. The searing heat in my gut started to hiss, getting even more intense by the second. Fuck, was I-?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andreas’ lips curved into an expression that was both comforting and haunting to me. “Already? My goodness, so eager.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why did he have to use that voice? Why was he able to lure me in, even if he was poking fun at me? Why did I still want him more than anything? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His thumb fondly brushed against my bottom lip, making me unconsciously lean into his terribly comforting touch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why was he still the person with the most power over me? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, but I’m not a person to you, am I, Jack?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wait. How did he-?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then reality came crashing down on me, clearing the haze I was in just seconds before. Revealing to me something I’d known all along. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could read my mind because he was a part of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was… my imagination.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This… wasn’t Andreas. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not him. At all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or, rather, some fantasy of yours.” Andreas- well, my sick version of him- tilted his head at me, and this time, I knew for sure that he had glitched into an image of Augustus Adair for a moment. Only for a split second, before transforming back into Andreas Adair, whose smile had become wider than humanly possible. I wanted to scream, but the sound was trapped in the middle of my throat and stayed there. I choked on the sound, begging for it to be released. Tears pricked at my eyes as I struggled for air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wake up, I willed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why couldn’t I wake up?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I wanted to leave. Now. But I was still pinned underneath him… whoever he was. “Oh, Jack.” He parted his lips to lick impossibly sharp teeth and offered me a deadly grin. “If I- well, if </span>
  <em>
    <span>Andreas</span>
  </em>
  <span> isn’t a person in your eyes… and he’s just a toy to you- an object… then you’ll have no qualms about using him as much as you need, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I still couldn’t answer as I felt my body start to feel impossibly light, my head spinning. Lungs burning as black dots made their way from the edges of my vision to the center. “But don’t worry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My eyes widened at that voice. It wasn’t Andreas’, or his father’s, or that… thing’s. It had morphed into another entirely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was one I didn’t think I’d hear ever again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Borrowed sweaters, midnight drives, and desperate last words crawled back into my mind like a parasite. No. It couldn’t be… I could… I could still hear the smile on their voice, and their breath against my cheek as they uttered, “I won’t tell a soul.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When I finally bolted awake, I was drenched in sweat while that voice still bounced off the walls of my head, whispering, “I know your secret.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, I couldn’t stop shaking. I lifted a hand to run it through my hair, then, finding nothing to comb, resorted to clutching at my chest to try and stay calm. To ensure I was even breathing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenn was sleeping beside me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had to calm down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Please. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every emotion hit me all at once like a harsh slap to the face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Guilt. Longing. Shame. Euphoria. Fear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To my left, Jenn was sleeping on her side, her back to me, as she breathed softly into her pillow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What was I thinking? Was I just incapable of any logic at this point? How could I lose any and all reason when it came to Andreas Adair? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Look, you’re the one that wanted distance.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“If you were the one in control… Why is it that you're the one who's constantly at my mercy?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I mean, sexual activity with a minor? That’s not gonna be a great image for you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It's okay. You're human. You make mistakes.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> My own words rang harshly in my head. No. This wasn’t just one mistake. It was a series of them, over and over, yet I never learned any better. Were those words aimed at myself? Were they ever meant to be listened to by… him? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then his voice, the way it sounded so candid and soft behind the closed doors of the Sapphire Lodge, bit at me even harder. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Do you make mistakes, too, Jackson?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck,” I uttered under my breath, my own voice cracking. I was trying. I was trying so hard to forget him and every thought that came with him, but… was it even possible anymore? Had every bit of him just invaded my entire mind now? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I scolded myself. It was just a dream. Dreams are random. They don’t mean anything. I’m still okay. Just because I could feel his olive skinned thighs underneath my fingertips, or his tongue brushing against the inside of my mouth, or vividly hear the enthusiastic noises which escaped his lips… It didn’t mean anything, right? That doesn’t… that wasn’t him, after all, just… a version of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’d</span>
  </em>
  <span> crafted within my own mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jesus Christ. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I needed a drink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a thought I didn’t believe I could have again. But I still found myself sliding out of bed and wandering towards the kitchen. Grabbing a glass from one of the cabinets next to the fridge. Almost last-minute, like I had suddenly realized I was sober, I steered myself towards the sink instead. As I watched the glass fill with water, a shudder ran through me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck is</span>
  </em>
  <span> wrong </span>
  <em>
    <span>with you?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Have I been excusing my own behavior for too long? Is this what it all amounts to?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fantasizing about a goddamn teenager? Reminiscing on </span>
  <em>
    <span>that person</span>
  </em>
  <span> from my past? Almost breaking my sobriety? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How little self control do I have? How pathetic am I? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My stomach churned unpleasantly as I downed the whole glass, then immediately went to fill it up again. I could feel the cool water swirl around in my mouth and travel down my throat, but I still felt parched. The first glass did nothing. Neither did the second. Or the third. As I went for a fourth, I was already gasping for breath, shivering. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There’s that awful sensation. Again.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The next few gulps of water went down harder than the rest. My gut not only twitched, having been overfilled, but my body then revolted with a jolt as the water started rising up again. I bent over the counter, my palms against the cool marble as I willed myself to force the fluid mixed with searing hot bile back down. After a few gags, it stubbornly forced its way back down my esophagus, burning the entire way through. I coughed as cold air scratched against my raw throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I still felt thirsty. I still felt so thirsty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the corner of my eye, I saw a wine bottle Victoria Gomez had opened earlier this evening. I didn’t even see the label, but could anticipate how good the bitter, aromatic liquid would taste regardless. I salivated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stop, I scolded myself as I reached for it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Do you want to disappoint your family again? Jenn? Ari? Do you want to go back to those god-awful AA meetings again? Suffer through the withdrawal and the undeniable effects of alcohol addiction a third time? Even though you know how much of a toll it will take on your body and mind?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Anything to make myself feel better. Maybe even to forget. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before I could even think to stop, my fingers were wrapped around the neck of the bottle. I uncorked it as quietly as I could, almost like it was standard procedure. It just so happened that my body moved without thinking much more recently, and in that moment, I did little to stop it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was so weary and overwhelmed and fucking parched that I was willing to do anything just to stop it all for just a few seconds. Just a few seconds. That’s all it took to break my years-long sobriety. And one dream of the son of Augustus Adair. I took a long sip of the deep red liquid. Then another. Then another, until half the bottle was gone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, at least in part, my thirst was finally quenched. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before I returned to bed, my body feeling lighter than usual, I made sure to thoroughly gargle some mouthwash. It was a habit I had back when I still drank, the movement easing out of my muscle memory. But I was better now. I knew how to control it. I'd been sober this long, after all. <em>It’s fine</em>, I thought as I wrapped my arms around my fiancée once more. She adjusted herself, but didn’t fully wake. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It won’t become a habit anymore. I’m better now. I’ve been through this enough to where I know how to control it. It was only a little bit. I’ll be fine. Everything will be fine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Around four in the morning, Jenn drove me to the airport. She kissed me on the cheek and told me to take care of myself as I unlocked the car door. I managed to smile back at her and assure her that I would. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t know. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When I returned back to Seattle, it was raining. When I stepped off the plane and made my way to get my luggage, it was like the air was completely different than in Sacramento. Heavier, almost. I breathed in and out, still feeling unsure of whether or not I was going to be okay on my own again. I felt another shiver run down my entire body. Just as I caught sight of a familiar set of tortoiseshell glasses in the corner of my eye. My breath caught. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. It couldn’t be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Across the terminal, Andreas and Augustus Adair were exchanging a few words. And it wasn’t… hostile. Andreas, dressed in a white, loose turtleneck with tan slacks to match, looked heavenly as he smiled at something his father said. Then he laughed. As in, truly. A bright, ringing sound that taunted me from across the room, even if it was barely audible over the sounds of people clamoring to get through. What could’ve happened in the weekend I was gone for them to be like this? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but keep watching, my gaze transfixed, as Augustus Adair, a fond grin on his face, leaned down to say something in Andreas’ ear. Instead of angrily running off like last time, though, Andreas playfully retorted in response, making his father chuckle. It was an almost ungodly sight. Andreas wasn’t tense. Augustus wasn’t making him tense. Augustus Adair was genuinely</span>
  <em>
    <span> laughing</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What you saw in that meeting room isn’t how he acts normally, okay?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So is this how he acts normally? But he seemed so cold naturally. What… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Augustus glanced at his watch and probably told Andreas something about not wanting to miss his flight. Andreas nodded. His father doted on him for a time before reaching over, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Andreas didn’t even flinch at the sudden contact. Neither did he flinch when Augustus gently held his head in his hands. I saw Augustus clearly say the words, “Be good,” to which Andreas grinned and answered earnestly. As if in familiarity, he closed his eyes as Augustus bent down to kiss his hair. Then he watched as his father promptly grabbed hold of the luggage next to him and set off, probably towards first class boarding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Holy shit, I thought. They were on… really good terms. Maybe even too good. But… I wasn’t even going to consider that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just because your dad was never affectionate with you, doesn’t mean no one else’s can.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe the Adairs were all able to switch moods instantaneously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I set my eyes back on the younger Adair, who was left behind, his lips still curved upwards in what can only be described as a gentle fondness as he brushed his fingers through the hair at the top of his head where Augustus had kissed him. I couldn’t help but think about how that fondness was the very same he’d given me before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he glanced up, as if knowing he was being watched. Those thoughtful eyes met mine. Mortification seized up his entire body. His smile disappeared. And not even a moment later, in the waves of the crowds, so did he. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I finally figured out my issue with scheduling and it was that chapters, even though outlined and planned from the start, often ended up a lot longer than intended, which took me more time to write than planned. </p>
<p>So from now on, uploads that are longer than 5k words individually will now serve as two uploads (since I can’t split them into separate chapters, as I’ve already extended chapter number from 49 total to 56 since the beginning :0) so, for example, instead of doing uploads every other week at a consistent rate, it will be two weeks if the previous chapter is &lt;5k words, then four weeks if it is &gt;5k words. I may break that rule occasionally if I’m excited to share a new chapter, though :) </p>
<p>Luckily, this hiatus has given me ample time to focus on writing, building a small but significant buffer of chapters, and further fleshing out the story’s future. I may have to take another hiatus later on if school gets in the way of writing again, but I will make sure to always let you guys know if that happens and still come back to see this story to its end. </p>
<p>Thank you guys so much for waiting patiently and continuing to support me anyways! make sure to leave a comment, those always make my day!! Love y’all, see ya in two weeks! Stay safe and have a happy new year!</p>
<p>Tentative schedule (since these are already written and/or I already know my word limit on them) :<br/>Chapter 23 - Jan. 23 (Funny how that turned out!)<br/>Chapter 24 - Feb. 20<br/>Chapter 25 - Mar. 6</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Jackson Peters closes the gap</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When Jackson returns to work, he’s forced to reconcile with his past with Andreas.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello my honeys! Song rec today is “seasons nineteen” by Greyson Chance</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When I returned to Abernathy that afternoon, my head felt like it was full of cotton and my stomach still didn’t sit right with me. To make matters worse, Della wasn’t at the front desk. Despite knowing that she was probably just out sick or something, I couldn’t help but be brought back to the first dream I had, where she wasn’t there. And how, in the same dream, Andreas had… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I sped up the stairs and to the chem lab. He was probably okay, right? I just saw him, why wouldn’t he be? He’d never actually… would he? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After the sanitation processes and slipping on a spare coat, I entered the lab unceremoniously and nearly cried in relief when I saw him in his own corner of the lab, adjusting a sample under a microscope. Andreas carefully zoomed in on the specimen, completely unaware of me. His eyes had never been so clear and focused before as he pressed his lips into a thin line. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was healthy. He was fine. He was alive. Thank god. I was just being… unreasonable, that’s all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Coming in to check on Andreas?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nearly jumped a foot high. How the hell did Ashley Nakamura just spawn next to me? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah… yeah.” I managed to say, knowing that she’d think I was absolutely insane if I told her the real reason why I was here. I sheepishly rubbed the back of my neck. “He seems to be doing… good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Should I ask about the whole Augustus Adair thing I saw at the airport? She seems friendly enough with him, right? Or would that still be stalkerish?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s actually doing amazing.” Ashley mused as she and I both watched him peer into his microscope. “Anything I ask him to do, he’s able to do it, no questions asked, so nowadays, he just has a lot of freetime to research whatever he wants or even leave early. You know, Augustus told me it’s because he was a little bit of a biology prodigy in school.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I cringed at the mention of Augustus. The fear Andreas had looked at him with in the meeting room last week versus the warmth he exuded towards him this morning crept into my mind, only piquing my interest more. Who really was Augustus Adair? And who was he to Andreas?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Was he?” I muttered, unsure of how to bring up the huge question still biting at me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, he was at the top of his class.” Ashley said it almost like she was a proud mother herself. “After graduating, he even studied at the Cordell and Truman Labs for a while under their general bio departments. He’s even won awards for his contributions to medical biology, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” My head swiveled in her direction in disbelief. He never told me this. And judging by his personality, he probably would’ve by now. Even on the first day I’d met him, he wasn’t sure about being in the biochemistry department. Said it might not be his “thing.” Why would he lie about something like that? I looked back at Andreas, who still hadn’t noticed us by the door. He jotted down notes in his laptop nearby, just completely oblivious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ashley, pristine-looking as ever, chuckled as she rolled up her too-long lab coat sleeves to the right length. “Yeah, I was surprised too. Kid’s a genius at human biology. Believe it or not, he and the Kim triplets are actually here out of merit, not privilege.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now this I had to hear. “The Kim triplets? They’re… good at something? Collectively?” I clamped my mouth shut the instant those words came out. Too harsh, Jackson, way too harsh. But Ashley Nakamura, it seemed, liked bluntness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To be honest, that was my first thought, too.” She muttered, placing her hands on her hips. She was probably having war flashbacks to the day Alice Kim set this very same lab ablaze. Which, in my defense, was the very reason I had a hard time believing the Kims were actually here for a reason. “But I’ve met their mom- she’s one of Augustus’ friends- I’m told that what Aaron and Aidan lack in common sense, they make up for with extensive chemistry knowledge. As for Alice, she’s allegedly more of a physics and tech specialist. Then again, I’ve never seen them in action, so I wouldn’t know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If all that were true, then how come all four of them chose to be assigned in departments that weren’t their forte? Why would Andreas choose to work with me instead of in the biochem lab, where he so obviously belonged?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andreas, almost as if hearing my thoughts, finally looked up. Ashley waved at him, oblivious to what happened between us these past few… well, anything that’s happened between us, honestly. Ashley glanced up at me. “Wanna come say hi to him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shook my head a little too quickly. “I’m good. Thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As I left the lab, I felt Andreas’ eyes follow me, boring into the back of my skull like a beam. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Near the end of my work day, I went to the break room to get my second Diet Coke of the day and found Mr. Knightley nervously typing something out on his phone. It was a little jarring, to see the man I’d least expect to have any clue about technology to be typing so quickly on his phone. When the door shut softly behind me, he quickly tucked his phone away and smiled a little too widely. He didn’t even bother hiding the Southern twang coating his voice. “Peters! Just the man I wanted to see! How was your weekend?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good…” I said cautiously. “Um… is there something wrong, sir? You seem a little worked up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The older man chuckled without humor. “No, nothing, just… some issues with the EXM-4 investigation and the facility’s funding, that’s all. You know, the usual.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, I… think I’ve heard about that.” I offered casually. I mean, it’s not like I could’ve just stood there without making conversation. “Something about Mr. Adair pulling funding because the EXM-4 culprit hasn’t been caught, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mr. Knightley sighed before taking a sip of water from his paper cup nearby. His eyes looked tired. Red, lined with a bit of gray. When he spoke next, his voice quieted to a volume I didn’t think would be possible for the man. “If we lose funding, we’ll have to lay off so many people.” He hastily added, “I’m not talking about you or Nakamura, of course- you two are both in management- but I’m talking about people below you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like… receptionists. Like Della. What would I do without Della’s smile in the morning or her snarky remarks? I’d seen the framed picture on her desk. She lived with her sister and her nephew. And Seattle was already rising in unemployment. Would she be able to get a job afterward?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was she already out of one?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, hell, to be frank, Adair was thinking of replacing me, too.” Knightley mumbled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I blinked a few times. Replace… Mr. Knightley? All I could say was, “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who did Augustus Adair think he was? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Face it, Jackson, Abernathy’s been goin’ real downhill lately and we still haven’t made any real progress with finding the EXM-4 culprit. So Mr. Adair is thinkin’ of replacing me with someone who’s more…” His eyebrows lowered over his eyes. “Fit for the job, I s’pose.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But Knightley, who could make more progress than you have? No one has any idea what’s going on with the EXM-4 thing. For all we know, it could be some unfounded rumor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mr. Knightley grimaced despite my efforts to lift him back up. “It’s no longer unfounded.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>What? </span>
  </em>
  <span>“A… a vial of what can only be described as EXM-4 was mailed to the Adair home. They believe it was a threat or a taunt of some kind. It was greatly altered from the original, but they tested it. It had to have been made from information that was exclusively ordered to never leave this facility.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It couldn’t be. But all the early tests of EXM-4 were completely unstable. And even the ones that weren’t were just ineffective. If that product got perfected, who knew what people could do with it? How much other countries were willing to pay for that? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A way to heal from external wounds quicker than any human would render someone virtually invincible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mr. Knightley, who must’ve knew my thoughts exactly, continued on defeatedly. “I don’t care if I get fired, Peters. I know I’ve been nothin’ but useless in the eyes of Augustus Adair. I just know that if EXM-4 gets in the wrong hands, it’ll be dangerous.” He clasped a hand on my shoulder and met my gaze with an unexpectedly intense one of his own. “So that’s why I’m countin’ on you, Patel, and Nakamura to keep your eyes peeled when I’m replaced.” Before I could protest, he held up a hand for me to stop. It was like he was afraid that if he didn’t tell me all of this now, he never could again, like they would be his last words. “I already know who might replace me. She’s a very stern woman, very professional. If it does happen to be her who takes power around here, she’ll be watchin’ all of you like a hawk, per Adair’s orders.” He took a deep breath as he looked away from me, his eyes clouded. “I’m not askin’ you to do this for me as your boss. I’m askin’ as… someone who could’ve been your friend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Knightley…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And one more thing.” The man glanced around, as if searching for hidden cameras. Which he could’ve been, I don’t know. “About Adair- the kid, I mean- I’m startin’ to think that-” Mr. Knightley hesitated. “I’m not sure if it’s my place to say, but I believe he might be involved-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Peters?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The both of us spun around to find Andreas Adair himself at the door, having just entered. He fixed his gaze at me. “Sorry, could I borrow you for a minute?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seeing and hearing him talk directly to me in real life was borderline frightening. I glanced at Knightley, who only nodded. Somewhat to my dismay. “I can always talk to you another time, Peters. Go on, now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I didn’t really want to, but I stepped out of the breakroom with Andreas, watching as he shut the door behind him. He was dressed in the same clothes as he was in the airport. Which unfortunately meant he still looked angelic. The slacks fit him a little too well, hugging his hips and outlining his thighs so very clearly. When they rode up a little, Andreas’ tanned, slender ankles were exposed, too. I decided to stare at a spot just beyond his head to avoid looking at him. “So what’s up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My father said it’s important to maintain good relationships in the workplace, so… I just thought we could talk.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is there to talk about?” The fact that I was grateful he had white wool covering his neck, or else I’d want to sink my teeth into it? The fact that my heart sped up uncontrollably just being around him? That I could barely breathe around him right now because I could’ve sworn he smelled like a inebriating mix of sex and fresh laundry detergent? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I blinked, finally looking at him head-on. Where I expected a mischievous expression that was ready to revoke that apology any second now, I instead found an unreadable one with sincerity behind his eyes. “For… what, exactly?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything.” He shrugged. “I was baiting you. I should’ve been maintaining an honest, professional relationship with you the entire time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To say I was taken aback would be a massive understatement. Andreas was… apologizing? And in a way that was perfectly candid? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- I don’t know what to say,” My voice was creeping on the edge of being hoarse. “I mean, everything was my fault. I should be the one apologizing about this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the first time I’d ever admitted it out loud to myself. Admittedly, it didn’t feel as freeing as I’d hoped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andreas didn’t react. “And that’s on you. I know I’m not to blame for everything, but still. I should be treating you with the respect you deserve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I had a sexual fantasy about you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I wanted to scream. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t deserve your respect. Or anyone’s, for that matter. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe we could start over.” He said it so easily, like we could just go ahead and do it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, if only I could really start over with him.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I should be receiving some new bottles of vodka and wine on Friday. Maybe we could talk over some drinks at my place?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” Of course I wanted to spend more time around him. Of course I wanted to share a drink with him. But could I control myself if I did? Alcohol was one of my greatest poisons. And so was he. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand if you say no.” Andreas volunteered, placing his hands in his pockets like what he’d just propositioned was no big deal. And it shouldn’t have been. “After all, you were the one who wanted distance. But… just think about it, okay? My front door’s always unlocked.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I wanted to find the words to respond, but before I could, he was already gone, around the corner, presumably heading back to the chem lab. Leaving me to consider how bad it could be if I accepted his invitation. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the week was a blur. The entire time I was asking two questions: why and what if?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why was he suddenly the one with upright morals and a desire to clear his conscience? Was his father really that big an influence on that decision? And… What if I came on Friday night? It had been awhile since I’ve gone to his house. I’d be alone with him. His bedroom would be right upstairs. I might even be tempted to drink again. Would I be able to control myself then? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, it was already Friday and I hadn’t reached a verdict yet. I’d weighed the pros and cons over and over again. By all means, I knew it’d be best to stay away from him. He wasn’t the type to be offended if I declined, after all. But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that I wanted to go. Badly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I once again pictured my hands against his skin, his lustful eyes looking up at me, my teeth digging into him as he tossed his head back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not like he knew what he was doing by asking me over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unless… he did. His devious smirk from weeks ago flashed back to me now. Taunting me, even still. He probably knew exactly what he was doing. Acting all innocent and cordial when he had ulterior motives to corrupt me further. That was exactly the type of thing he would do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was falling right into his trap. Willingly, even.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morning, Mr. Peters.” Andreas cheerily greeted me in passing, Aaron Kim in tow. “Invitation’s still open if you are.” At that, his friend glanced at him in curiosity, but decided not to press as they continued walking towards the chem lab. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How could he act so nice to me after everything I did? After all that happened between us, he still wanted us to be friendly? Didn’t he know how much of a danger I posed to him? As the hours passed, only more questions swirled around in my head. Up until the very moment I sat behind the wheel of my truck, tapping my fingers on the leather. The moment of truth. I could either exit the parking lot and turn left, towards home, or right… towards him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I remembered the way his body leaned into mine at the lodge. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The way my skin tingled with anticipation when his fingers ran up my back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His warm laughter which filled me with a feeling I never thought I’d feel again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His lips, his voice, how he tasted faintly like alcohol. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I pulled out of the parking lot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I turned right. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>I found myself at his front door before I could think. My mind swirled with possibilities, regret, and a little bit of curiosity. I tried the handle. It gave way easily. It really was unlocked. I stepped into the house, which was somehow colder than it was outside. Everything was the same, but seemingly jagged and menacing in the dark, with the only illumination being from the moon outside. The biggest difference, though, was that I could see the faint silhouette of Andreas Adair in the living room, his back to me and his arm draped over the edge of the couch as he raised a blood-red glass of wine to his lips. As I shut the door and locked it behind me, his head turned to the side, but he still didn’t look at me. “You’re actually here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I didn’t answer as I set my coat down on one of the barstools and walked over to sit on one of the couches adjacent to him. On the coffee table were a dim aromatic candle, a bottle of Polish vodka, and another bottle of wine with a French label. Plus one stemmed glass, presumably for me. “Take your pick,” he sighed. “They’re both good, so there’s no problem there, but I was never too much of a vodka person. Also, before you ask, my bastard son is staying overnight at the vet’s. He just had a major surgery.” He inexplicably sounded more… tired than he did today or Monday. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wordlessly, I poured myself a glass of the vodka and stared at him as he swirled his wine around in his cup. He seemed to have had a few drinks already, but wasn’t drunk or tipsy in the least. He wore the same shirt he was wearing today at work, only unbuttoned now to reveal a white tank underneath. He sat leaning back, with one leg crossed over the other as his eyes gleamed in candlelight. Andreas’ entire appearance and general aura were much more relaxed now, despite being so polite and upright before, when he extended the invite. “I hope we can get on good terms, Mr. Peters.” He said coolly. “I don’t want to be tense with any of my coworkers at the moment. And I know you’re a special case because you asked specifically that we don’t interact anymore, but I want you to know that I always valued your company and your role in my life as a mentor. I… I never meant to push you away like I did.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He once told me that he didn’t want to let me go. He’d said specifically that he didn’t want to cut me off. I couldn’t help but wonder, even now, whether or not he felt the same way anymore. Was this a sign that he did?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” I told him, my voice low. “You weren’t the one pushing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I was, in a way.” Andreas insisted. “I kept invading your space and taunting you about everything. And then that eventually just pushed you off the edge, and that eventually made me treat you poorly, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pushing me off the edge. That was one way to put it. But looking at the way the dim light on the coffee table illuminated his features in a soft, warm way and how it painted his face as earnest and naive, how his legs sloped and curved into his hips, how his lips, expressive as always, were dyed a deep red, I couldn’t help but think that maybe I hadn’t been completely pushed off yet, in another sense. Maybe just edging it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I downed the entire glass of vodka, despite all the warning signs in my brain and gut telling me not to. When I slammed the cup back on the table, Andreas jumped in his seat and looked at me with a new alertness. “Stop apologizing. I liked your intrusion. I liked being around you. Too much, in fact. And that was the real problem, not you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andreas blinked, eyes wide. When he said nothing, I licked my lips and continued. “And I know it’s wrong to like being around you that much, but it’s true. You made me feel... young again. And I liked- no, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span>- looking at you and thinking… thinking about what I’d like to do to you.” There. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words had slipped out of my brain and out of my mouth as if the one drink I had served as lubricant between them. He probably already knew this. But he needed to hear it again. Anything before this was caused by both of our doings, but I was the one who made the mistakes. He… he was just being a kid. He was only poking fun. That’s all it was. Right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gazed at me up and down. At first, I thought it was to try and determine if I was clinically insane, then he said the next few words that got the ball rolling on the rest of the night. Curiosity lit up his black coffee eyes. Any lingering formality had simply melted away in the matter of seconds. “What would you like to do to me?” Andreas asked, his voice now only a rumble. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you already know.” I hoarsely replied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tilted his head at me. His eyelids lowered and I could only watch, mortified, as he uncrossed his legs and swiftly moved to sit next to me. “Then there’s no harm in telling me again.” He told me, his words dangerously close to a purr. “Be honest with yourself, Mr. Peters. Be honest with </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shook my head as I shakily poured myself another glass, then downed it just like the first, relishing in the bitter, smooth liquid as it flowed through me. The familiarity of it drew me back in. “I thought you said you wanted to maintain a professional relationship.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I also said I wanted an honest one.” I gasped quietly as he placed himself even closer, enough to where our thighs touched. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just-” I resisted every urge to get away from him. Before it was too late for him. For me. “Why did you call me here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why’d you come running?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The silence between us was deafening. So this was, in a way, a test. It had to be. To see if I still wanted him. But why? Why did he keep doing this to me? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a tense, burning hot second of contact, he leaned away, leaving the space between us cold again. When I couldn’t find the answer to his question, he replied to mine first. “I already told you. I wanted to make things right.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This isn’t making things right, Andreas, it’s-” I gave out a shuddering breath, unsure of how to continue. “You’re only messing with me again.” Again, just like he did at the gala, just like he did in the same bathroom only a few feet away, and just as he did… at the lodge. “I told you it was probably best for the both of us if we could stay away from each other, this isn’t… we… can’t.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But what if we can pretend?” Andreas asked hopefully, his voice barely above a whisper. “That… everything’s okay? Could we just talk about normal things for a night and… tell each other the truth?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d obviously already had a few drinks before this, this wasn’t… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>truth</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Andreas, I’m out of control, and you-” I sighed exasperatedly. It’s not that I wanted to go. I wanted to stay. More than anything, I wanted to stay. With him. But it wouldn’t end well if I did. “I’m trying to protect you.” My voice cracked at those last words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He downed his wine. Loudly setting down his glass on the coffee table, he spoke again, his voice eerily even. “And I already told you that I’m not worried. I’m not going to do anything, and it’s not like you can unless I allow you to. I just want to tell you everything I need to say and for you to do the same.” Standing up, Andreas refilled both his cup and mine, still not bothering to look at me. “I feel like the both of us need a little bit of closure with each other before we can… you know, never speak to each other again. Since that’s what you want.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When I didn’t reply, he calmly sat back down next to me, handing me my glass before staring at the drink in his own. The deep red reflected off his thoughtful, dark irises as he formulated what he wanted to say. Hesitantly, after a few uncomfortably tense minutes, he parted his lips and spoke. “You’ve already told me how you feel. So I suppose it’s time I do the same.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My entire body seized up immediately in shock. Andreas was… actually going to tell me how he felt? Had he ever really done that before? He was always a guessing game, something I couldn’t pin down or decipher. A puzzle I couldn’t solve. And now that he was giving me a direct path to his thoughts, I wasn’t sure exactly how to react anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pinched the bridge of his nose, still not glancing over in my direction. “The truth is, Jackson, I’m angry with you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At the lodge, you left without any explanation and then said you wanted space right afterward. Then you barely even gave a reason as to why and left it at some really vague one saying you ‘thought it’d be best.’ I mean, I get it, but even then, I…” Andreas sighed exasperatedly, like it was taking everything in him to confess this. And maybe it was. “I still felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>used</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jackson, did you ever consider that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“if Andreas isn’t a person in your eyes… and he’s just a toy to you- an object… then you’ll have no qualms about using him as much as you need, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, that’s not… that’s not what I intended, I wasn’t using him, I was just… </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a person, too.” Andreas said firmly as he finally met my gaze, a fire burning behind his eyes. “I have thoughts and feelings too. And do you know how I feel?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“...How?” I croaked, abandoning my glass back on the table as I focused solely on him.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before I knew it, he’d set his glass down, too, and placed a hand against the side of my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek. This warmth, this familiarity I never thought I could experience again… I leaned into it without a second thought. Then, in a weak voice, he finally told me, “I feel stupid for still thinking back on that night in the lodge.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Our lips met with no resistance. As heat enveloped me, I wrapped my hand around the inside of his thigh and pulled him closer. I felt his body melt into me as mine did the same. Of course I knew I should’ve stopped right then, but if this was really the last night we’d speak to each other again… then I wanted to make the best of it. He moved closer to straddle my lap, taking my face in his hands as his tongue wandered the inside of my mouth. A sensation of chills ran through me as I let go of any self control I had left. One last night. I had one last night with him. Then that was it. I could indulge for now. Then maybe I wouldn’t want him this badly. I reached a hand into his hair, gently combing my fingers through soft brown strands. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then he suddenly pulled away. Half disappointed and half irritated, I looked at him with a confused look on my face. Andreas shook his head silently as he climbed off my lap and sat back on the far end of the couch, his expression unreadable. “Maybe it really was a bad idea, bringing you here.” He uttered in a hollow voice. He couldn’t even look at me. “We’ve both overstepped.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Andreas-” I started desperately. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ve both said our piece. We can go by your agreement starting now. You can have another drink or two, just… you should go.” Those words hit me like solid ice being dumped all over my body. “Call an Uber or something if you’re too drunk to drive. I’ll be upstairs in the shower if you need anything.” He muttered as he stood up, briskly walking away as if staying any longer would physically hurt him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andreas had never so blatantly shoved me away. Maybe he really had changed. Maybe… I should’ve done the same. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I reached for my cup and drank the clear fluid inside like it was water. Then I poured myself another one, downing it with a little more difficulty, but with the same burn that lasted all the way until my stomach. Shivering again, I took a deep breath, trying not to focus on how the entire house smelled like him or how he was above me taking off his clothes right at that moment or how my head began to fog with all the liquor. Man, when did I become such a lightweight? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Since you became sober. Since you </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> sober. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ignoring the immense guilt bubbling up in my chest, I poured yet another drink. Strangely, though, even after consuming it, I felt unusually calm. What now? Well, there was only one thing left to do. I would go home. I would call Jenn. I would go to bed, and I would be productive for a weekend and go back to work on Monday. That sounded fine. That’s how I should’ve been doing things, after all. That was the only way to make things normal again, if I left this house and never approached Andreas Adair again. It would be so easy. It was my own idea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then why were my feet still glued to the floor? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why was I still thinking, “just one last night. One night wouldn’t cause any harm”?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why was I… like this?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When I pictured him, why did I always find myself yearning? When I imagined him upstairs as hot water ran down the entire length of his body, why did I imagine my hands doing the same? Was there a way to fix this? To fix me? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What if… I glanced at the spiral staircase a few feet away from me, knowing he had walked up them just moments before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What if I could just let myself lose control for one night… then would I be normal again? What if that was all I needed? Yes. That had to be the solution. I reasoned that, but maybe that was only the final excuse, the final nudge I needed to take action. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A little too hastily, I made my way up those glass steps and onto the second floor, which surprisingly, wasn’t too elaborate. Another set of stairs led to a third floor at the end of this one long, hardwood-floored hallway while the one slightly ajar door at the other end indicated Andreas’ presence with the sound of humming inside. Nudging the door open with my knuckle, I entered his unlit bedroom, which had a connected bathroom, the door slightly ajar there, too, allowing a sliver of golden slight to make a thin streak across the carpet. I leaned against the wall next to the frame. Adrenaline pumped through my veins in anticipation. I was finally going to go through with it. What I’ve literally dreamed of, what he’s wanted, too… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The water stopped running. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A million thoughts and emotions ran through my mind in that moment, so many that it was almost like I didn’t feel or think anymore at all. Every part of me was consumed with nothing but a deep itching sensation of what can only be described as want. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His humming neared the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hearing his voice only caused me to remember what it was like to hear him moan. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lights inside the bathroom turned off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door slid open briefly, steam lazily streaming past the tile as Andreas emerged wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All of that exposed skin beaded in water droplets only made me feel hungrier. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he finally caught sight of me in the corner of his eye, he jumped a little, but ultimately, thankfully, didn’t move to hurt me. Andreas gave out a sigh of relief, unable to contain his apologetic smile with a hint of confusion. Politely, as if reverting back to his workplace self, he said, “Oh. Hey- can I do anything for you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every rational, regretful feeling evaporated as I couldn’t help but take in every inch of him in front of me, at full display. At my disposal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually,” I met his gaze. “There is.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>could you imagine if the next chapter was literally just Andreas whacking Jackson out and calling the police?? because I can</p>
<p>anywaysss, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! <br/>Tentative schedule: <br/>Chapter 24 - Feb. 20<br/>Chapter 25 - Mar. 6</p>
<p>feel free to leave comments!! they always make my day!<br/>as always, i love y'all ! make sure to stay safe!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. A Brief History of Ethan Knightley</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ethan Knightley wasn’t always so happy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>here’s a nice update, a few hours early, just for you :) </p><p>i finally made a Twitter so make sure to follow me @ lilhoneyOwO (if you want 😳 - i’ll def follow you back) for updates, shitposts, and the ability to communicate with me directly :))) (im not super active on it yet, but will be soon!) </p><p>song rec today is “May You Decide” by George Timothy. i like to think Knightley enjoyed listening to this type of music.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Warning: Mentions of su*cide and physical abuse ahead. Reader discretion is advised.</strong>
</p><p>Ethan Stewart was born in the home of his mother, Rebecca Stewart, in South Carolina. Although the woman had called a hospital, the closest one wasn’t very close at all and she was forced to give birth at home. </p><p>In the dead of night, suddenly, there was a cry of life. It was a beautiful sound which only Rebecca and her sister, Mary, had heard. In fact, it was the last thing Rebecca heard before she had passed away from severe blood loss. At the time, Mary Stewart was all Ethan had. His father had skipped town once he found out that Rebecca had gotten pregnant. Nothing is known about him except that he was a writer from some city or another.</p><p>So Mary took it upon herself to raise Ethan on her own. The only issue was that she was an unmarried woman who had a day job, and one that didn’t pay very well, either. It wasn’t ideal, and she was barely able to give Ethan the proper care he needed as a baby. She would ask the women around their small town for help, but there were times when she had to leave him home alone and hope for the best. This continued on for years. Then, finally, a man by the name of Jerry McCane looked Mary’s way, and she, after becoming Mary McCane, was allowed to stay home with Ethan, who was now four years old. For a while, things were okay.</p><p>However, times got tough once again when Jerry McCane started drinking more often. He began by only drinking beer on nights when he’d had a bad day at work, but then it quickly escalated. He only started off yelling at poor Mary, but, a few years later, started taking out his frustrations on his stepson as well. Ethan was seven. Sometimes, at this point, Ethan would try to stay at school as long as possible so he wouldn’t have to return home. Mary could only protect him so much. </p><p>Neither of them could be spared, though, and Ethan began turning into a rather violent boy himself. As he started to reach the age of thirteen, he would often start to openly rebel against his teachers, threaten other students who looked at him funny, and pick fights with anybody who was willing. Which only led to more retaliation from Jerry. And then more lashing out from Ethan. It was a vicious cycle that even Mary was hopeless to stop.<br/>One night, it all blew up. Ethan had bolted outside, a bloody gash on the side of his head, and ridden his bike as far and as long as he could. His lungs burned and his legs felt like they would give in any second, but it was like he couldn’t get far enough. Eventually, by sunrise, he found himself exhausted and his head throbbing from his wound. He didn’t know where he was, but it had to be dozens of miles away from his previous home. He found himself in another small town, quite a while west from his hometown. All he cared about was that he was… away. Although something nagged at him that he shouldn’t have left his dear aunt behind, he still shivered at the thought of going back. Later, he thought, would be better. </p><p>The first open place Ethan passed by was a bakery. With his hood pulled up to cover the dried blood, he wandered in. It was early enough to smell the bread baking in the kitchen. Ethan was only hungry, so he resolved to simply go behind the counter, steal a pastry or two, and be on his way. But when the baker caught him, it turned out that he was a surprisingly young and kind man who just let him have them. It only made Ethan feel worse. </p><p>“Somethin’ tells me you’ve been havin’ a rough time,” The bakery owner had a soft southern voice that almost made Ethan want to cry on the spot. He hadn’t been spoken to this gently in so long. So the man allowed him to sit in the backroom with him and chat while he ate. He’d even gotten a first aid kit to patch up Ethan in the meantime. </p><p>“Who did this to you?” The owner, who Ethan learned was named Joel, asked. Ethan didn’t answer. Joel didn’t press. At the time, Joel was in his early thirties. He could still understand what it was like to be a teenager who didn’t want to share details. He offered Ethan a stay at his home, only until he’d figured things out.<br/>Ethan refused. </p><p>Afterward, Joel directed Ethan towards the nearest clinic and he had his wound properly treated there by a man named Noah Emerson, who had owned the place, despite only being around the same age as Joel. He was also kind, but in a more sterile way. When he had learned about Ethan’s situation, he offered his own home. Ethan refused, and set out to keep riding on his bike that night. Where? Who knew. But he kept going. He fell asleep under a bridge nearby and had dreams about killing Jerry McCane. </p><hr/><p>When he woke, he was in a warm bed inside a house that seemed well lived in. Startled, he wandered downstairs and found Joel talking with Noah Emerson over cups of coffee. As it had turned out, right after Ethan had left the bakery, Joel had called Noah in concern. The two found him shivering and nearly unconscious that night, then drove him back to allow him to take their spare room. </p><p>As it had also turned out, Joel and Noah were married, owning a nicely sized farmhouse right outside town with a few fields for growing whatever they needed. No one knew they were together or where they lived, so they were left alone despite the time and location’s ignorance. </p><p>Ethan tried to leave, but was roped into sitting at the table for a proper meal. This time, when Joel provided him a full breakfast, Ethan really began to cry. The sheer kindness the two men showed him had been more than he’d been offered in years. He savored every bite and then opened up to the both of them about everything once he’d eaten his fill. Joel and Noah Emerson told him he could stay as long as he needed to. And he did. When the bakery closed early the next day, Ethan helped Joel Emerson with tending the strawberry and corn fields out back. Ethan ate dinner with them later that night, after Noah Emerson had closed the clinic. It was comfortable and homey and not at all what Ethan was used to. </p><p>Noah even enrolled him in the school nearby so he could continue his education. Both him and his husband understood that he couldn’t return back to Mary and Jerry. But it wasn’t all smooth sailing ahead. His violent and disruptive outbursts still weren’t easy to control. </p><p>One time, it had gotten so bad that he was suspended for a week. Ethan was upset with himself beyond reason. He thought that if he messed up, Joel and Noah would kick him back out or do what Jerry used to do. Joel picked him up from school that day. He wasn’t disappointed. He parked the car on the side of the road and asked Ethan what happened, why he did what he did, and how he felt about it. Ethan told him, though it took a while to figure out what to say. He didn’t expect a civil talk about this. When Joel was satisfied with his answer, they continued driving back home. </p><p>Home, on another note, was something new to Ethan. No longer was he dreading the end of the school day. No longer did he have to ice bruises before going to bed. And Joel and Noah were such good parents, it was almost infuriating. “Why… aren’t you mad at me?” Ethan couldn’t help but ask.</p><p>“You remind me of me.”</p><p>“I… do?”</p><p>Joel chuckled. “Yup. When I was ‘round your age, I’d actually gotten a three-week suspension.”</p><p>“No way.” Joel, the man with warm hazel eyes and a sweet southern accent and a knack at baking pies?</p><p>“Believe it. I was just like you, kid.” Something in his expression seemed far away. “I… had a pa that beat me, too. I acted out in the same way you did. I know what it’s like.” </p><p>How could anyone who’d been through that much be so nice? <em> Could… he be like that? </em> He wondered. “So what did you do?” Ethan asked quietly, hopelessly. </p><p>Joel smiled to himself as he reached over to ruffle Ethan’s hair. “I thought about the man I wanted to be. And I made it happen, with a lil’ bit of help from Noah and our friends. And it took a while, but I got there. That’s what matters, Ethan.” </p><p>He’d never forget those words. </p><p>It wasn’t Joel he accidentally called “dad” first, but Noah. When he was patiently teaching him how to whittle on the back porch, the word slipped out. In the kitchen, he heard the clink of dishes pause as Joel stopped washing them. Ethan hastily apologized, but the couple didn’t mind. It became a habit, and soon, Noah and Joel were calling him their “son,” too. </p><hr/><p>Before Joel and Noah Emerson could “officially” adopt Ethan, they had to take it up with Mary and Jerry McCane themselves. Ethan had kept putting off seeing them over and over again, but eventually, he couldn’t keep running, and the couple drove with him towards his old home. </p><p>Mary had died to suicide a few months after Ethan left. Which meant Jerry McCane was technically the one who had custody of Ethan. After a tense confrontation with his new dads backing him, Jerry gave him up with little protest. He never wanted the kid, anyway. But as they were walking out, Ethan heard Jerry call Joel and Noah something awfully bigoted, and Ethan lunged at him. </p><hr/><p>Later that night, Noah took Ethan outside their house and they laid on a heap of hay while they talked. Ethan was fuming. “You shoulda heard what he called you and Pops.”</p><p>Noah chuckled bitterly to himself. “I’m sure I’ve got an idea.” They were the words of a man who had been called much worse in his lifetime. </p><p>“Why do you let them do that? You guys don’t deserve that.” Back then, Ethan never understood what it was like to be a pacifist. </p><p>“You’re such an angry kid, Ethan. The thing is, people will always hate ya. The best thing you can do is just find a way to be happy despite them.”</p><p>Ethan didn’t answer. </p><p>“You remind me a lot of Joel when he was your age.” Noah said. </p><p>“He told me the same thing.”</p><p>Noah sighed, running a hand over his face. He seemed so tired all of a sudden. “He still flinches when I move too fast, you know? I’ve… seen you do the same thing.”</p><p>Ethan stayed silent. </p><p>“I get that you’re angry. So am I. I can’t tell you how much I wanted to beat the shit out of his dad for doing that to him. Or your uncle.” </p><p>Ethan glanced at his dad, eyes wide. </p><p>“Don’t tell your pops I cussed around you. He won’t give me the end of it.” Noah Emerson shook his head to himself. </p><p>“Well… why didn’t you? Beat them up, I mean?” He would’ve liked to see that. </p><p>“It’s okay to be angry. Justified, even. But violence doesn’t solve anything, Ethan. Never does. It just makes people more violent. Causes a vicious cycle.” Noah Emerson had a way of speaking that was always measured and careful. Unlike Joel or Ethan, he grew up in the north. “I learned that myself when I was your age. Your pops, too.” </p><p>When Ethan didn’t answer, Noah spoke up again in an even gentler tone, his tinted green eyes softly framed in moonlight. “You know, Joel was scared he’d be a bad father to you because he had a bad example.” Ethan met his dad’s gaze. “I just hope we can serve as good ones for you.”</p><p>Ethan wanted to cry or scream, but he couldn’t. Everything was coming down on him all at once. His aunt was dead. And he felt like it was too late for him to be a better person. There was no way he could be a father. But Joel and Noah believed in him so much. </p><p>Noah wrapped an arm around his son and held him there until he was okay to go back inside. No words needed to be said. </p><p>Ethan never got into a fight at school again. </p><hr/><p>Ethan couldn’t say he knew what love was, but meeting Joel and Noah changed him. He’d had his doubts about them due to his preconceived notions of marriage (he didn’t have very good role models), but after living with them for a few months, Ethan started to learn. </p><p>Noah didn’t verbally express it often, but when he came home from work and hugged Joel from behind in the kitchen before coming over to muss up Ethan’s hair, it wasn’t hard to tell how much he cared. </p><p>Joel was often the more all-around one, but when he talked to Noah, his voice was softer than usual, with his lips still curling upward at the edges when he said Noah’s name. And when Joel offered to teach Ethan how to cook, he lied to Ethan to encourage him (even though he was, in his words, “as hopeless in the kitchen as Noah was.”) </p><p>Love was the way Noah and Joel still slow danced in the kitchen some nights when the radio played a particular song. How they would check up on Ethan and help him with his homework. How they would take him with them to drive-in movies and he wouldn’t feel like an outsider at all. </p><p>When Ethan would later get married to Irene Knightley and had a family of his own, he wouldn’t forget any of it. </p><p> </p><p>Noah Emerson officially adopted Ethan on his fifteenth birthday. He and Joel raised him together.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>Ethan would stay in that farmhouse with the Emersons until he went off to college. He went to community college first in the city before deciding to major in business at a state-level college, specializing in business management. </p><p>What Ethan would later learn is that Noah Emerson had an older brother. And this brother worked with Alexander Adair. Isaac Emerson was an innovator in the field of biomedical sciences. When he’d eventually got back in touch with his younger brother, he invited Ethan, his nephew, to work at the O’Malley facility, which he managed. There, after earning his undergraduate degree in business, he learned from his uncle how to maintain an Adair facility. Ethan then met Alexander Adair and his young son, Augustus, who had to be around half Ethan’s age at the time. About ten years later, after Ethan had gained a large amount of experience and climbed the ranks, Alexander Adair had passed away and his son took his stead. Augustus and Ethan maintained a professional but somewhat tense relationship. They became closer, however, when Augustus introduced him to Irene Knightley, a fashion designer from London who had just made it big in Paris. The two hit it off immediately and got married three years afterward. Ethan took Irene’s surname. And only a few years later, they had their first child, Benjamin, then later, Henrietta, and even later, Bernadette. The Knightleys settled in a craftsman home in Seattle a few years later, and when the Abernathy Institute of Technology and Scientific Advancements was built, Augustus wanted Ethan Knightley to run it. </p><hr/><p>And so, he lived the rest of his life well and without grudges, as his fathers had taught him. </p><p>Even when he had heard from his fathers that Jerry McCane had passed away, he came back to South Carolina and visited the man’s grave. It took great effort to find his uncle’s burial ground- he asked many locals about it- but eventually did, in the corner of some abandoned field. It was unmarked, Ethan realized, like Jerry had no one else who cared about him. Ethan left a daisy he picked from the sidewalk nearby. Not in remorse or mourning. But just as an acknowledgement. A brief one that he knew Jerry wouldn’t have gotten otherwise. Did he deserve that much? Ethan thought so. </p><p>He eventually located his poor aunt Mary’s grave, too. Unlike Jerry McCane’s grave, hers was in the town’s main cemetery. He left her a bouquet of tulips- her favorite- and thanked her for dedicating her life to him. For trying her best to raise him. Irene had come with Ethan, one hand on his shoulder and another wrapped around the handle of a parasol the entire time. </p><p>When Ethan was done, he turned to his wife and simply said, “Let’s go home.” </p><p>She offered him a rare, small smile at that. </p><hr/><p>Him and his family still came to South Carolina to visit at least four times a year. Luckily, they all got along. Noah and Joel were happy to see their son doing good in life, and Irene bonded with them unexpectedly. Benjamin, Henrietta, and Bernadette loved their grandparents dearly. Ethan loved his entire family beyond what words could convey. </p><p>Throughout his life, Ethan had highs and lows. But with a simple kindness from two men he later was proud to call his dads, he changed for the better, becoming the upbeat and friendly man he was today. Everyone who met him had loved him. All his employees respected him. So now there was only one question left to ask: what will happen when he is gone?</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>fair warning, the next chapter will be MAJORLY different in tone from this one, so just…. Be ready for that??? </p><p>Also, what did you think of Knightley’s backstory? i may or not be working on another book which focuses on how Joel and Noah met…. Or, at the very least, one that focuses on Noah Emerson’s past…. so take this as a bit of foreshadowing for a (potential??) future work that is connected to this one :)<br/>^ i might post a sneak peek of that on Twitter 😳<br/>as always, stay safe, my honeys! love ya, and im lookin’ forward to seeing y’all in two weeks!</p><p>Schedule:<br/>Chapter 25 - Mar. 6<br/>Chapter 26 - Mar. 20<br/>Chapter 27 - Apr. 3<br/>Chapter 28 - Apr. 17</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Jackson Peters gets what he wants</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters and Andreas Adair spend the night together.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i just wanna say thank you guys so much for 3k hits! it means so much to me that so many ppl wanna read my story, you guys have no idea! feel free to leave a comment and a kudos!</p><p>now here it is, guys, the big whoop. This is the chapter which made me change the rating from “mature” to “explicit”... so yeah… Hope you guys enjoy the chapter (but not too much, and remember to read my end notes). Song rec today is “Hold Me Down” by Halsey</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Warning: Explicit sexual content ahead. Reader discretion is advised. (If you would like to skip this scene, please skip this entire chapter.)</b>
</p><p> </p><p>I took him by the waist and pinned him against the wall. I didn't know what was coming over me. But sensed what I was about to do. I was powerless now to stop it. Andreas looked up at me, his eyes widening in realization. He still held the towel loosely around his hips while his other hand pressed against the wall behind him. His hair was still glistening from the shower while a faint steam came off his skin. </p><p>I wanted him, I always had. But now... something primal <em> demanded </em> him. </p><p>And for the night, I was going to have him. No matter what it took. </p><p>I leaned forward and bit at the base of his neck, relishing in how the warm water on his skin still lingered, how he smelled the same as he did that night at the lodge, how he was finally at my mercy. He seized up, unsure, but gasped softly as I continued, kissing a trail up his neck until my nose was in his hair and my lips against his ear. My hand found his wrist. </p><p>And he was already trembling. </p><p><em> Good </em>, I thought. </p><p>"Let go of the towel." </p><p>Andreas turned his head to look at me, his eyes suddenly innocent and doe-like. "Huh?" </p><p>He was adorable.</p><p>But I was losing my patience. </p><p>I hitched a finger under the cotton and forcefully tugged it towards the floor. I watched as it fell, then salivated at the sight of his whole, exposed body. I itched to touch every inch of it. </p><p>I wanted to pin him down by his slender wrists and coax every saccharine-sweet moan and pant from his lips that I could. </p><p>Take what was mine. So badly. And knowing that I could, right this moment, made me feel dizzy with want. </p><p>Andreas- his chest now rising and falling quickly- looked away as a blush rose in his cheeks. The sight was enough to make my breath hitch. I chuckled, letting my lips brush against the shell of his ear. "Since when were you so shy?" </p><p>"I-" Andreas forcibly turned his head back in my direction, indignant, but I cut off his response by kissing him. He closed his eyes and slowly, reluctantly parted his lips against mine. He tasted like wine... and something sweeter. </p><p>This was a familiar scene, wasn't it? </p><p>I pressed his body harder against the wall with my own. </p><p>Used one hand to caress the delicate curve of his back, then lower. I let my fingernails imprint on the skin there, to which he faintly whined into my mouth. Oh, if only he knew how hot he sounded right now. </p><p>I wasn't thinking, only doing what I'd desired. Any sane part of me was gone- an afterthought. The only thing left in my mind was him. </p><p>It was always him. </p><p>Without warning, Andreas pulled his lips away, leaving a faint trail of saliva between us, his eyebrows knit. "Jackson, I don't know if you-" </p><p>His breath caught as my fingers dug even further into the flesh at his hip, holding him firmly in place. "Yes?" God, I loved teasing him. I was the one with the power this time. I couldn't help but enjoy it more than I should've. My blood was hot, even electrified as it sped through my veins. I lustfully ran my eyes across every sharp edge and soft crescent of his form. </p><p>I didn't know where to start. I wanted all of him, all at once. </p><p>Andreas watched me with an unreadable expression. His hands brushed against my chest, positioned to push me away, yet he didn't. </p><p>He was already hopeless to what I was going to do. His dark chocolate eyes filled with curiosity, fear... and something that looked entirely too much like want. "I... I just don't know if..." </p><p>I cut him off again, biting gently on the side of his neck. This time, I elicited more of a response. He slid his eyes shut and moaned gently through firmly pressed lips. </p><p>It was a honey-sweet sound that made my mind buzz even more. </p><p>I made my way down to his shoulder and bit harder there. He froze. </p><p>But slowly, he let his arms hang around my neck as I kept going. Then, after a moment, he pressed his nose into me and moaned softly into my shirt, too.</p><p>God, what I would give to replay that noise forever. </p><p>I continued back up again and bit where I remembered him to be sensitive- the junction in between his shoulder and his neck. Andreas' body responded immediately. He lurched forward, into me, and made an even more lewd sound. </p><p>My pants tightened, the fabric painfully constricting. The rough denim rubbing against my increasingly sensitive skin. </p><p><em> Oh, god. </em> </p><p>"Do you like that?" I breathed. </p><p>I felt the slight calluses on his fingertips make my skin burn as he reached up my shirt. And in the best way possible. </p><p>"W-we shouldn't..." Andreas said breathlessly into my shoulder. </p><p>Yet his hands were already feeling my back. His breath was quickening in my ear. And most of all, his body was already curving into mine, giving way to how needy he was right now. </p><p>He wanted this just as badly as I did. </p><p>I bit harder in the same spot. </p><p>Andreas' nails scratched into my skin as he clutched at it, his mouth pressed into the front of my shirt to suppress the pleasurable noise escaping his lips. I could feel the vibration of his breathless sound flow through me. </p><p>He no longer protested. </p><p> </p><p>I easily lifted him and carried him to the edge of the bed, laying him out on his back so that his legs still hung off at the knees. He propped himself up on his forearms, then blatantly stared at how precum already soiled through the front of my jeans. </p><p>All it took was hearing him moan. </p><p>His prominent Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he tilted his head back to meet my eyes. It was hard to see in the dark, but his face was still a nice shade of pink. </p><p>I had that effect on him, I realized. And I felt ecstatic. </p><p>I climbed on top of Andreas, painfully aware of the immense heat radiating off of him. Of how it, mixed with his scent, enveloped me, smothering me. I didn’t mind as it heightened the raw impulse running through my veins. I didn’t know how much longer I could control myself. </p><p>His eyes never left mine as he watched through an intent, fluid gaze. Wordlessly, he chewed on his lip and tilted his head to the side. </p><p>I blinked in realization. He was giving me more room to work with. He wanted me to keep biting his neck. </p><p>Cheeky kid. </p><p>Slowly, I did as he wanted. I cradled his head with one hand as my teeth grazed against his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and parted his lips as he released a shuddering breath. I could feel him slowly getting more aroused, only making me increasingly feel the same way. As his fingers made their way down my shirt, carefully unbuttoning it, I straightened momentarily to fumble my belt off and step out of my jeans. As he let his fingers run up my bare chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake, I started eagerly kissing him deeply again. I couldn't get enough. Andreas briefly pressed his hand firmly over my chest, then pulled away laughing quietly to himself. "Your heart's going a mile a minute," he said as he leaned towards my ear. His breath was hot- even moist against my skin. </p><p>He seemed more like himself now. </p><p>I was glad. I liked him better that way. "I know." I murmured hoarsely. "It's because of you."</p><p>I bent down again to start leaving deep bite marks on his collarbone, then further and further down. He squirmed under my touch, but didn't tell me to stop. As I bit especially hard in a spot right above his thigh, he whimpered lightly as he reached down to grip the sheets. </p><p>The image of that... it almost made me hit my breaking point. </p><p>I arched my body over his and placed myself between his legs. I let my lips brush against his as I slid my hands up his thighs, letting them pin his hips into the mattress. Andreas yelped at the sudden force. </p><p>He weighed practically nothing. It was so easy to hold him down. If only I’d known that before. I would’ve taken advantage of him much earlier. </p><p>His jaw clenched, as if knowing what I was thinking. </p><p>Andreas glanced away, then ran his fingers through his still-wet hair. "There's..." Almost imperceptibly, he quickly glanced down and swallowed something in his throat as the blush crept down to his neck. "There's lube in the nightstand." </p><p>Ah. Right. So I had to stretch him out first. </p><p>I knew that much, at least. From where, I... honestly couldn't say. </p><p>I opened the drawer to the left of me and immediately found the bottle I was looking for. He watched as I squeezed a generous amount on my index and middle finger, then rubbed them together. Andreas flinched as I reached down, hastily trying to find my mark. </p><p>The cold, slick fluid made goosebumps appear on his legs, which he folded to rest his feet on the edge of the bed. His skin, though... was still so soft and warm. The anticipation was killing me.</p><p>Finally, when I found the opening- a tender ring of muscle- I forced one finger in, just halfway, but his entire body arched as he groaned low in his throat. He felt so tight. It took a lot of strength for me to push further, but eventually, my whole index finger had forced its way in. I twitched with excitement, now knowing how it felt inside. He was smooth, and not only warm, but <em> hot </em>. I pulled my finger back, only to shove it back inside, harder. Andreas bit the side of his clenched hand as he bent his neck forward, forcing back a moan. I reached over and took his hand away. Andreas looked at me with surprise as I used my other hand to pin both his wrists above his head. I wanted to keep hearing him. </p><p>He squirmed. "Don’t-" Andreas whispered feverishly. </p><p>Again, I stopped him by teasing his opening with both fingers now. He stiffened. "Jackson, I can't-" I forced both inside and watched as he tossed his head back, struggling more. "Jackson, stop, I can't... ah-" </p><p>I fingered deeper, then curled them when I was up to my knuckle. Then I added a third. He moaned louder as I kept going, being spurred on by the sounds he made. God. </p><p>When I figured it was enough, I pulled them out with a squelching sound, to which he winced, then watched as he licked his lips and relaxed once more into the bed, his eyes still trained on the ceiling above him. I couldn't wait anymore. I had to have him, now. </p><p>I let go of Andreas' wrists and, using both my hands to grab his thighs, opened his legs further. He immediately curled them both around my waist in response, pulling me closer. </p><p>I smirked as I aligned myself with him.</p><p>Andreas' gleaming eyes narrowed into slits. </p><p>He tilted his head at me. </p><p>I knew what I wanted. </p><p>And so did he. </p><p>"Go ahead," he mouthed. </p><p>I pressed into him. It was a tight fit, but eventually, the head forced its way inside. "Ah..." He made the best keening sound I’d ever heard in my entire life, squeezing his eyes shut as I pushed further in. </p><p>Fuck, he felt good. He felt way too good. He was hot and wet and velvety all at the same time, and his muscles squeezed around my member so hard, I thought I might come right then and there. It took all the strength in me to restrain myself from jackhammering him. Pure heat and animalistic instinct was coursing through me. A groan escaped my throat as he wrapped his legs even tighter around me, forcing me deeper, halfway up my shaft. Andreas pressed his heels into the small of my back as he writhed in both pain and ecstasy. God, he was too tight. I should've loosened him up even more. </p><p>Though... I could feel his skin and flesh contract and stretch, desperately trying to accommodate me. Which was arguably much more arousing. </p><p>I quickly forced the rest of me inside him, panting as his skin constricted around the hilt. A ragged moan escaped Andreas, the sound scraping savagely against his throat. Bending over him, I pushed my tongue into his mouth. He gratefully accepted it to distract himself from the intrusion. When the dry orgasm had faded off, I pulled out slightly and pushed myself back in with a moist, satisfying squelch. Andreas whimpered quietly, only clutching at me harder. His fingers desperately sought purchase and found it against my shoulder blades, where his nails scraped forcefully against my skin. </p><p>It burned. </p><p>I liked it. I liked it so, so much. </p><p>Andreas kissed me hungrily as I found a rhythm and continued to thrust harder into him. He kept making these increasingly pleasured sounds, only making me twitch with arousal from inside. My blood was heating up. Pressure was building up where we were joined, and it only made the both of us more and more sensitive. Desperate, even, for friction, hoping for release. </p><p>I was too aware of his skin getting stickier with sweat and his breath getting faster and his nails leaving scratch marks on my back. </p><p>After getting more comfortable, Andreas even started occasionally rolling his hips against mine, too, forcing me even deeper inside as he started groaning into my mouth. He pulled away, panting as his thighs trembled. I was already close as he met my eyes. His pupils were blanketed in a faint haze as he lost himself in me. "Jackson..." He mewled. I unconsciously kissed the hollow of his neck in response. "Ah- Jackson..." </p><p>Hearing him say my name like that while his opening twitched around the base of my cock was almost enough to make me reach my limit. I leaned over to his ear as he continued to gasp and squirm. "Say it again." I said, my voice hoarse. "Say my name again." </p><p>Without hesitation, he rested his chin over my shoulder, and, pulling me even closer to him, breathily moaned my name. "Ah- Jackson..." </p><p>Jesus.</p><p>Christ.</p><p>I bit my lip as I started ramming even faster into him, making Andreas' legs tremble as their grip around me started to weaken. </p><p>The sticky but gratifying sound of skin to skin contact intensified, growing quicker by the second. Andreas parted his lips against my skin as another staggered, raw moan escaped him. "Ah... Jackson... fuck, I think I'm going to..." He panted shakily. I could feel it. His muscles were starting to contract around me. </p><p>I could feel him so closely, so intimately, I was almost in shock. </p><p>I was finally able to see his pretty little face as his features contorted in a mix of bliss and overstimulation. </p><p>Feel how his fingernails dug into my skin, leaving only an unquenchable fire in their wake. </p><p>Watch how his dark eyes still lit up with a mix of euphoria and dulled with dazedness at the same time. </p><p>How his hips curved into mine, the pain melting away into pure ecstasy. </p><p>How he tossed his head back, his soft lips parted in the shape of my name. </p><p>Andreas, who seemed so unattainable, was now mine, arching his back in pleasure. Because of me. Because of what I was doing to him.</p><p>He was mine, all mine. As the bite marks on his neck darkened, one even pricking with faint drops of blood, I felt a dark satisfaction, knowing I’d done that to him. </p><p>His walls only seemed to tighten even more around me as he got louder. I held his thighs even wider apart, grateful for his flexibility, as I started thrusting even deeper than before, his opening now easier to slip in and out of. I was almost there. I was right on the edge. And so was he. I didn't even know how long it'd been. Five minutes? Ten? Twenty? </p><p>I didn't care. It felt so good, being with him like this. It felt so fucking good. I didn’t know what heaven felt like, but this had to be damn close. The knot in my stomach which had been tightening all this time was now threatening to unravel itself all at once. And the noises Andreas made only caused the unbearable pressure in my lower half to intensify. </p><p>His chest heaved as small, almost pleading gasps escaped his lips. </p><p>He moaned my name one last time, his voice dripping wet. And that was the last blow it took to finally push me over the edge. All too fast, I came inside of him, feeling myself shudder, then slowly relax as all the pent-up desire I'd felt for him released all at once. </p><p>The sensation tore through me like nothing else.</p><p>In the moment, I knew no one could ever satiate me like him. </p><p>I saw stars. My head spun. I could barely catch my breath through desperate, shallow gasps. The cool air scraped unforgivingly as it flowed in and out of my lungs. </p><p>Yet I'd never felt so alive. </p><p>Only seconds later, he came, too, as we rode out the shock. Hot, white liquid mixed with lube started to stream lazily down between his legs as he shivered with delight, his knuckles pale as his fingers clenched at the sheets. </p><p>I couldn't help but drool, watching his cum glisten as it dribbled down his flushed, tanned skin. After one last grind of my hips against his, I slowly pulled out. Andreas could only hum faintly in response as his body seemed to go limp against the mattress, too fucked out of his mind to come up with something typically snarky to say just yet. </p><p>Before I could catch myself, I sluggishly bent down and licked some of the fluid off the inside of his thigh. Andreas' eyes widened as he gasped gently. God, he even tasted better than I thought he would. I swallowed his thick, slightly sweet release, then felt it travel down my throat and into my stomach.  </p><p>Intoxicating. </p><p>That's what he was, and always would be. </p><p>Every part of him. </p><p>I was absolutely hooked. </p><p>Addicted, even. </p><p>I gazed up at him to gauge his reaction. His eyebrows were still knit together as he panted softly, his eyes slowly becoming lucid again. But he still managed to tilt his head and smirk at me. "You were better than I thought you'd be, Jackson." </p><p>I smirked back as I leaned in to brush my lips against his. "You're not so bad yourself, Adair." </p><p>The corner of Andreas' lips quirked even more. "Asshole."</p><p>"You love it." I muttered as I met him halfway in a familiar motion for a kiss. </p><p>As we melted into each other for the umpteenth time that night, it felt like he was the missing piece my entire life. I’d never felt like this before… but with him, everything was different. I adored him in ways I didn’t think were possible. I <em> wanted </em> him in ways I didn’t think were possible. And now… </p><p>Even though my body heaved from effort and my skin felt way too hot and scars were probably forming where his nails scraped against my back, it felt… incredible. Freeing.</p><p>To finally have him. </p><p>And to know he wanted to have me, too. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so yeah that happened<br/>i wish i had a way to more visually show this scene, i felt as if trying to describe it through words in first person may have limited its execution aghhhh- edits will definitely be made</p><p>fun fact: pwf has gone through a multitude of changes since it’s conception and was at some point going to be an omegaverse fic- will definitely elaborate on that later, but I do miss a lot of the elements from that version and regret having to scrap some characters to make it work to the realistic modern universe.<br/>anyways<br/>hope you enjoyed the chapter! </p><p>love y’all! stay safe :) </p><p>Schedule:<br/>Chapter 26 - Mar. 20<br/>Chapter 27 - Apr. 3<br/>Chapter 28 - Apr. 17<br/>Chapter 29 - May 1</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Andreas Adair delivers tragic news</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters notices something amiss with Andreas… and Mr. Knightley.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>here we go, one piping hot new chapter just for you, my lovelies :) I will allow you a crumb of domestic brainrot, but after this, it’s back to business!!<br/>Edit: also, I made an Insta @lilhoneyowo <br/>😳 follow me for updates and shitposts<br/>song rec is “Sunday Morning” by Maroon 5 - it’s just really chill<br/>also, it’s officially been one year since I began writing PWF!! thank you guys so much for your support this past year and I can’t wait to show you how the story unfolds in the next 1-2 years to come!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When we were all done for the night and cleaned up, we laid together in bed, his back pressed firmly to my chest as I held him. It had been a few hours, it was now a little past midnight, and we were both absolutely exhausted (and in his case, possibly in some pain) but too stubborn to fall asleep before the other. </p><p>It was as if we’d automatically got back to where we left off. Knowing we were comfortable with each other sent a wave of emotions through me, though I couldn’t decipher which ones were the most prominent. </p><p>"You know, Jackson..." Andreas mused, his voice still raw. "If you'd wanted me that badly, you could've had me whenever you wanted." </p><p>I felt my expression soften as I held him closer to me. To my heart. "You and I both know that's not true."</p><p>He tilted his head up, his hair tickling my chin. "It is, though." Andreas moved closer and purred, "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted you to bend me over your desk and fuck me so hard that I forgot my own name?" </p><p>I blinked, almost getting turned on all over again just thinking about it. I didn't know how Andreas could be so open about his sexuality. Or what he wanted, for that matter. When was the last time I'd ever even been aware of what I wanted, before tonight? "How long?" I asked, voice hoarse.</p><p>Andreas flipped around to face me, then caressed my face in both hands. I didn't mind the roughness of the calluses on his fingers. He'd never, ever looked so gentle. "Since you asked me how I liked my eggs in the morning. In the elevator." </p><p>I blushed, suddenly grateful the room was still dim. "You... remember that?" </p><p>Andreas' pink lips curved slightly. "Of course." </p><p>"But I thought... weren't you freaked out at the gala, when..." I didn't have to finish. </p><p>Andreas sighed and rested his forehead against mine in an incredibly tender gesture I never would've expected out of him.</p><p>But I guess that night was the night for dozens of firsts I'd never expected, wasn't it? "Maybe a little." He admitted. "But... at the same time, I almost felt relieved."</p><p>"Relieved?"</p><p>"It's like..." He wrinkled his nose slightly in thought as he pulled away. "It's the security of knowing someone wants you. And when I really thought about it... I think I wanted you, too. I... always have."</p><p>My breath caught. All that time, was I basically worried about nothing? All those nights of tossing and turning before the lodge... when I couldn't help but think Andreas thought I was gross and weird... was he actually just figuring out how he felt himself? </p><p>"I guess I just didn't realize it." Andreas sighed, but not in a sad way. Not even a second later, his eyes brightened as he changed the subject. "You know, you were a lot more assertive today than usual." </p><p>"Do you..." I hesitated as he looked into my eyes. "...like... that?" </p><p>In response, he slid forward and kissed me, his lips slightly puffy from the activities of the evening. "It's a really hot look on you, Jackson. Don't be afraid to whip it out from time to time." </p><p>I silently released a breath I didn't know I was holding. I didn't even know that part of me existed, but now that I knew Andreas liked it... that made me feel better. </p><p>I kissed his hair and leaned into him, finally letting the events of the day kick in, tiring me out even more in the process. </p><p><em> Holy shit </em>, I realized. I just had sex with Andreas Adair. A mix of emotion washed over me. Disbelief, for one. Maybe a hint of shame, but for now, I decided to ignore that. Most of all, though, in that moment, I only felt a strange, unbelievably euphoric satisfaction. </p><p>I just fucked Andreas Adair. And he liked it. And I liked it, too. Probably way too much. Was I going to be satisfied with just one time? Or was I just going to get hooked on him again? </p><p>My thoughts were interrupted by a gentle kiss against my jaw. I blinked, surprised. "What was that for?"</p><p>"You're overthinking something right now. Don’t.” He pulled away slightly, enough for me to see from the wan moonlight outside how the afterglow was still fading from his face. It made him more beautiful, somehow. </p><p>Reluctantly, I let the tension melt off my shoulders. "Okay." </p><p>"Just focus on me right now." </p><p>How could I not?</p><p>My shirt hung loosely around his shoulders, the sleeves hanging past his fingertips, the hem reaching down to his mid-thigh. And even better, he wore nothing but it. </p><p>The white fabric contrasted his smooth, olive skin nicely. </p><p>The shape accentuated where his body sloped and curved. </p><p>Most of all though, something vaguely possessive washed over me, seeing him in my shirt and how small he looked in it. </p><p>I wanted him to be mine, and mine alone so badly right then. </p><p>The thought of someone else touching him... it made my jaw clench. </p><p>"Hey." Andreas' uncharacteristically stern voice brought me back into reality. "What did I just say?" </p><p>Ah.</p><p>"Sorry," I said sheepishly. </p><p>"Don't be." He briefly pressed his lips to my brow, right where my scar was. "Just get some sleep. You probably need it after exerting yourself so much today, <em> old man </em>." He smirked with that. I found myself liking his smirk more and more. </p><p>"Yeah, yeah, whatever, whippersnapper." </p><p>He snickered as I placed one last kiss on one of the darkened love marks I'd previously made on his neck. "Goodnight, Andreas."</p><p>"Goodnight... Jack." He hummed as he nestled himself under my neck. Every part of me felt warm, and it wasn't because our bodies had been pressed together for the past few hours. That night was the best sleep I’d ever gotten. When was the last time I felt like this? Months? Years? Andreas' soft breath against my chest made me feel... nostalgic, in a way. I wanted to feel like this forever. I wish I could. But knowing that was impossible, I curled closer to him and enjoyed the simple moment. His company. For as long as I could. </p><p>And soon, Andreas' company became a pastime.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>I woke up to the sound of liquid sloshing around in a toilet bowl. An all too familiar sensation similar to panic filled my gut. </p><p>Oh, no. That last time I heard a sound like that... Alice Kim was throwing up in a Sapphire Lodge bathroom. </p><p>I quickly sat up and heard Andreas coughing from the connected bathroom. My feet moved before I could think, and I found myself at the doorway as Andreas took a desperate, trembling breath, his face hovering over the toilet. His knuckles were white as they clutched the edges of the seat. Like he was in pain. "Andreas, what happened?" I crouched down next to him, combing away the sweaty strands of hair from his face. "Are you okay?" </p><p>Andreas looked up at me, managing a weak smile before wiping away at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm fine, it's just... maybe I drank a little too much last night, okay?" His entire body shuddered violently. Instinctively, I reached over to hold him upright with my arms. He shook me off. "Don't worry. I'm not pregnant or anything." Andreas playfully cocked a brow at me. "Though if I was, I'd expect you to pay child support." </p><p>I shook my head at him. But I couldn't fight off the relieved smile on my face. At least he didn't lose his sense of humor. "Andreas, are you sure there's nothing else that could've gotten you sick?" </p><p>He raised his hand to wave me off. Then immediately doubled over the toilet, spewing puke again. He gagged for a bit before sitting upright again and giving me a hopeless look. "I-” Andreas blinked a few times. “No. No, there couldn't be anything else... but... shit, I feel like I can't..." His voice sounded really hoarse. His throat probably burned from all the acid passing through it all at once. </p><p>Andreas closed his eyes for just a second. His entire frame shivered again as he opened them once more and met my concerned gaze with his own, hazy one. "Okay..." He took a thin breath through only slightly parted lips. "So maybe I'm not okay. I'm sorry, but... could you- could you get my phone and call my-" Andreas immediately paled even more. "Actually, never mind. Maybe I just... need some soup and Gatorade or something." </p><p>I tried to swallow the lump of concern in my throat. He obviously didn't like being seen like this. "Um... Gatorade?" </p><p>"It replenishes the electrolytes you lose after you throw up.” He explained. “When I was little, my mother used to..." Andreas bit the inside of his cheek as he firmly leaned against the wall nearby to stand up. "She used to give it to me when I... got like this. And my father." </p><p>The concern leaped out. "Wait, this has happened before? On multiple occasions?" </p><p>Andreas gave me an irritated glance as he brushed past me, sliding my shirt off his shoulders and onto the bed. I looked away, embarrassed. He still wasn't wearing anything underneath. In the corner of my eye, I watched him rummage through a dresser drawer that was already open. "It's not a big deal, so don't make it one." He still wouldn't face me as he slipped on a pair of plaid sweatpants. </p><p>"I..." And we were already hostile again. Dread sank into the pit of my stomach. "Okay, okay. I won't." I said reluctantly as I sat on the edge of the bed closest to him. Sort of in hopes that would help me mend our relationship again. "Do you... have any soup? Gatorade?" </p><p>He glanced at me from over his shoulder as he straightened the band tee he'd put on. I could've sworn his expression had softened right then. In hindsight, though, maybe it was just the effect of the gentle sunlight flowing in through the adjacent window. "...Yeah. I think I have some of both... somewhere." </p><p>"Do you have any medicine that would help? What about the one your dad gave you the other day?" </p><p>Andreas paused. </p><p>Shit. </p><p>I messed up again. </p><p>I hastily opened my mouth to apologize or take it back, but he answered gently. "No. Those meds aren't really for… this." </p><p>I wanted to ask what it was for, then. But I stopped. Figuring that I'd already crossed enough lines with him, I decided to leave quietly and start looking for what we needed in the kitchen. </p><p>Briefly, I remembered that I noticed something. The bruise, or scar, or whatever injury on Andreas' back had faded completely. He must've been icing it.</p><p> </p><p>I found my phone still downstairs on the couch where I’d left it. I pressed the on button. Nothing happened. Out of juice. I rushed back up the stairs with it and found Andreas rubbing moisturizer on his face while humming a showtune that sounded vaguely familiar. Man, how easily did this kid switch moods? How was he suddenly okay? “You have a charger I can borrow?” I asked casually. </p><p>“Nightstand.” He responded primly before going back to humming seamlessly. </p><p>“Thanks.” I slid open the same drawer from last time and blushed at the sight of the same bottle of lube I used last night to… stretch him out. Beside that, there were also a handful of condoms and some rubbery sex toy that I could only imagine the use of. In the very back, I found the wire I was looking for. “Hey, uh, why didn’t you tell me you had protection in here? We probably should’ve been using that.” </p><p>I could see Andreas shrug in the mirror reflection past the slightly ajar bathroom door as he put in his contacts. “I don’t have anything. Do you?”</p><p>Heat rose in my ears. “No.”</p><p>“Good.” He turned off the light inside and slid open the door completely so he could meet my eyes. “I like it raw anyways.” </p><p>I still don’t think I’ll ever get over how he was able to say things like that so casually, the same way people would say “It’s cold outside” or “This is a nice jacket.” Maybe this nonchalance should’ve clued me into just how much experience he had with this sort of thing sooner. </p><p>Andreas chuckled at my mildly scandalized expression as he grabbed his towel from the night before off the ground. “Who’s the shy one now?” </p><p>I felt my face warm as all the events of the last night flooded back to me. Oh, God, I did all that?</p><p>My phone buzzed as it resurrected from the dead, showing me all the notifications I’d missed. First was one missed call from Jenn. It had come in just a few minutes after I went upstairs. I decided to ignore the rush of emotion I had upon reading her name and call her back later. </p><p>A text from Ashley asking if I would know why Mr. Knightley isn’t picking up her calls, coming in from just a few minutes ago. Weird. But I reasoned I could text her about it another time. </p><p>Then I froze when I scrolled to the last one.</p><p>14 missed calls, all from Ethan Knightley, all from around three am.</p><p>What did I do? Was I in trouble?</p><p>My blood ran cold. <em>Did he find out somehow?</em> I was about to press the notification to listen to the voicemail he left behind, but was stopped at the sound of Andreas’ voice. </p><p>“On another note: hey, do you wanna help me make breakfast? I’ll still be eating soup, but it wouldn’t hurt to have something else, too.” </p><p>I turned my head in his direction. I never imagined I’d do something so… blissfully domestic with him. Strangely, though, the thought filled me with what could only be described at the time as hope. “Yeah. What do you want me to do?”</p><p>“Well, what do you want?”</p><p>I grinned to myself as we both made our way down the stairs. “How about some poached eggs?”</p><p>Imperceptibly, I saw his lips quirk. “Eggs florentine, then. You poach the eggs, I’ll get the hollandaise sauce going.” </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Andreas turned on some piano music as we worked around the kitchen. I rummaged through the cabinet under his stove and found a number of pots that were definitely too many for one person. When I gave him a questioning look, he shrugged. “Nils likes to have options when he cooks for me.”</p><p>I stared at him, still not comprehending. </p><p>“Nils. My maid? Well. More like caretaker now.”</p><p>“Oh.” I kept forgetting he had one. Because he was Augustus Adair’s son. I shuddered, thinking about that. The dream I’d had where Andreas briefly flickered into an image of his father invaded my mind. I shook it off. </p><p>Eventually, I dug around and found a pot that wasn’t too big. I quickly carried to the sink to fill it with water. </p><p>As the tap ran, I glanced over at Andreas as he let a few strands of hair fall over his eyes while cutting a lemon. Unconsciously, I reached over and gently combed the hair away from his face. Andreas softly smiled at me briefly before going back to his task. The music on his phone softened, too, as it slowed.</p><p>“Who’s this song by?” I asked in an attempt to lighten the mood further. Not like I’d know any name he told me if it wasn’t Mozart, but I had the feeling that this would open up a conversation to fill in the awkward silence left by the events of this morning. </p><p>“Aidan.”</p><p>I paused. “Aidan…?”</p><p>“Kim. My friend.”</p><p>I fully would’ve believed if he had told me it was by Mozart. It sounded complex and classy, and… not written by a seventeen year old at all. “So… he sent you a recording of him playing his song, or…?”</p><p>Andreas chuckled at my confused expression. “No, I’m just playing his album from Spotify.”</p><p>“Aidan Kim wrote and played this. And recorded it officially. Aidan. The same kid who got blackout drunk at the Sapphire Lodge.”</p><p>“The very same.” Andreas said nonchalantly as he picked some seeds from a peeled lemon slice, setting them aside before popping the fruit in his mouth like it was candy. “He’s a piano prodigy. Has been his entire life. Composes and sells piano tracks like it’s nothing. If you want, I can show you some of his other works later.” I didn’t even know what to say. It might be because I’d never met a piano prodigy before, but I fully didn’t expect one to be… like that. “Forgot to tell you each of the Kims are supernaturally good at something. Must be genetic.” </p><p><em> Jesus, was I really the only non-accomplished person at Abernathy Labs? </em> I wondered. <em> What’s next, is Travis Smith secretly a former heavyweight champion? </em> </p><p>“Sometimes I wonder if I fit in with them at all.” I looked at Andreas. He had spoken in such a lighthearted tone, but there was something behind his eyes that looked almost sad. A little tired, too. </p><p>Before I could formulate a response to affirm him, he’d shrugged, hiding behind his usual façade again. “Well. I did, at some point. But that was a long time ago. What can you do, right?” He smiled at me again like it was second nature. Even though he’d asked a question, I knew it wasn’t meant to be answered. It was like he’d said, “This is all we’re gonna talk about the matter for now and that’s that.” Catching the hint, I didn’t respond. </p><p>And just like that, the conversation was over. The music ceased for a few seconds before switching to the next track. </p><p>At some point after getting the water boiling, I looked over at the front door and noticed it was unlocked. I blinked. </p><p><em> Odd </em>. </p><p><em> Didn’t I lock it when I came in, though? </em> I thought. I could’ve sworn I’d done that, specifically because Andreas told me he kept his front door unlocked, too…</p><p>“Hey, did someone come in?” I asked Andreas cautiously.</p><p>He paused while getting a blender from the cabinet. “Um. Not that I know of? Why?”</p><p>“I… could’ve sworn I locked the door when I came in.”</p><p>Andreas peered over at the handle of the front door. “Huh. Maybe Nils came inside for a bit when he came to pick up my car. I ask him not to lock the door behind him sometimes.”</p><p>“So… you don’t have a car right now? Something wrong with it?”</p><p>Andreas shrugged while separating some yolks from whites. He did it almost robotically, like he’s done it plenty of times before. </p><p>Noted. </p><p>“I wanted to have it revamped. No real reason for it, I just got bored. Don’t worry, though, he’s coming back with a rental.” </p><p>Of course. I tried to ignore the inexplicable sinking feeling in my gut. Why wouldn’t he tell me in advance? Was he not comfortable with it? </p><p>The sensation only got worse when Andreas’ phone began to ring very loudly. Something felt… off. Maybe it was the way I started off the morning hearing Andreas throw up or how I spent the night literally burying myself inside him, but right then it was like something was somehow wrong. </p><p>Should I have returned Mr. Knightley’s calls immediately? </p><p>Andreas dusted off his hands and picked up the phone. “Hello?” He greeted cheerily. </p><p>“It’s Henrietta,” Andreas whispered to me to the side. I nodded half-heartedly.</p><p>Less than a second later, his smile disappeared. He looked at me. I couldn’t hear the words she was saying, but she sounded really distressed. My mind screamed a multitude of questions, but I stayed quiet. Andreas opened his mouth, then closed it. </p><p>What?</p><p>What was it?</p><p>Andreas bit his lip. “Henrietta, I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Oh, no. </p><p>
  <em> Please don’t tell me this isn’t what I think it is.  </em>
</p><p>Maybe I wasn’t the one in trouble when Mr. Knightley had called me so many times. </p><p>Maybe it was him. </p><p>“Yeah. Okay, I understand. I can come by and check up on you guys later, if that’s okay?... Alright... Alright. Bye, Hennie.” </p><p>The instant he hung up, he leaned on his palms against the counter. “God,” Andreas muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose. </p><p>“What…” I swallowed the sudden dryness in my throat, a little afraid to ask, but feeling the curiosity eat me up inside. “What happened?”</p><p>Andreas met my eyes, his own terribly hollow. He sighed deeply. </p><p>“Andreas?” I asked gently. </p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Knightley’s dead.” </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>surPRISE, SHAWTYYY<br/>no but I do apologize for adding that out of the blue-<br/>when I said the EXM-4 plot line was gonna get for more intense, I meant it 😀</p><p>so uh,,,, ahaha,,,, happy anniversary? </p><p>Schedule:<br/>Chapter 27 - Apr. 3<br/>Chapter 28 - Apr. 17<br/>Chapter 29 - May 1</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Andreas Adair and Jackson Peters attend a funeral</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While at Ethan Knightley’s funeral, Jackson Peters and Joshua Patel can’t help but suspect a certain someone for the manager’s death. They discuss the manner of death with the Adairs.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>helLO and happy early easter!<br/>song rec today is “Clouds” by Before You Exit - it displays grief in a beautiful, ethereal manner and fits the chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Mr. Knightley’s funeral was held the following weekend in a relatively new cemetery uptown. Despite being on such short notice, Augustus Adair decided to give all employees at the Abernathy facility the day before, of, and after off work. Only a few of us were actually invited to the event. Weirdly, I’d already seen Henrietta and Benjamin Knightley with a younger girl with ginger hair who I thought might be their little sister, but Irene Knightley? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nowhere to be found. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And neither were the Adairs, for that matter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anxiously, I shuffled my feet in the grass. All we could do was wait until the ceremony began. Above us, the sky was grey, threatening rain. And the air was heavy. Not just with moisture, but with unshakable grief as well. They’d arranged some foldable chairs in front of the site where the coffin was going to be buried. I say the coffin because I shudder thinking that it held the body of the man I’d just seen a few days ago. Alive. Well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now, from what Ashley had told me just minutes before… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Knightley didn’t just die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had eleven stab wounds in his chest when he was found by his wife. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>murdered</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was hard to believe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Impossible, even. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who would want to kill Mr. Knightley? What could he have done for someone to want to end his life? Rather, who could he have wronged? I shivered despite the vest and coat I had on. To the left to me, Ashley Nakamura bristled as well. And to my right, Joshua Patel kept taking off his glasses and cleaning them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you two have any theories?” He murmured softly as to not disturb the mourners around us, still coming up to the coffin to say their goodbyes. Luckily, though, me, Joshua, Ashley, and a few other department heads only sat near the back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ashley shrugged as she brushed some invisible dust off her shoulder. “I wouldn’t. Knightley never said anything was wrong, did he?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…” I bit my lip, trying to remember what he’d told me. Even then, though, as I ran through all that he said to me that afternoon… “Not exactly. Not to me, at least. He only said he was going to get replaced as manager soon…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ashley paused as we watched the Knightley children make their way to their seats in front. “Actually, he told me the same thing. He didn’t happen to talk to you about the…” She cautiously glanced around. “...the EXM-4 investigation, did he? Because he talked to me for a while last Tuesday.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. So he’d already relayed the information. I breathed a silent sigh of relief, knowing this made things ten times easier. “Yeah. He told you guys he even wanted us to work together right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The whole shabang.” Joshua muttered. “He gave me the talk on Friday when I got back.” He frowned to himself as he ran a hand through the black curls of hair threatening to obscure his eyes. “It might’ve been just me, but didn’t he actually seem a little… paranoid to you guys?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paranoid? What do you mean?” Ashley asked. She had a way of questioning things in a way that seemed entirely too sterile. I guess that was an effect of working in the chem lab itself, but sometimes the habit made me shiver. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now that you mention it, he was acting weird when I talked to him, too.” I offered, thinking back on how his eyes would flit around, as if trying to find a secret spy or something. Even so early as Monday… “Do you think he might’ve already known...?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would’ve told somebody if he knew he was being killed soon, though, wouldn’t he?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unless… there was something stopping him. Fear, perhaps, but maybe some</span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> was keeping his mouth shut, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was just a theory, though. An insane, unreasonable theory. That wasn’t the type of stuff that happened in real life. And yet here I was, and Mr. Knightley was suddenly gone, and there had to be a reason for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He might’ve just been trying to be careful.” It seemed Ashley was going to be the sensible one. She quickly offset that by rolling her eyes. “People seem to think Augustus is somehow always watching and listening.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stated it as if her furtive glances at our surroundings didn’t say otherwise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s not like we can completely disprove that as of right now. Plus, he did mention that Mr. Adair found him useless now, so if we’re talking suspects…” Joshua subtly raised his eyebrows, despite suggesting something so sinister. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t even joke about that.” Ashley quickly hissed under her breath in response. I slowly leaned back in my chair, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation taking place across my lap. “Augustus was in New York for a meeting at the time. Not only that, but… this is much too extreme, even for him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it, though?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Joshua-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, around us, everyone started to stand, and we hastily did the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A priest stood in front of the coffin, then spoke as we looked on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he uttered a prayer, Augustus Andreas Adair finally walked brushed past our row, settling on the one right in front of us. Andreas straightened his tie, a mildly solemn look on his face. Beside him, however, Augustus Adair’s expression was blank. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tried to let grief consume me, to think about only the loss we as a company endured by losing Ethan Knightley, but Andreas’ presence alone was a reminder of… what I’d done. What happened just last week, in his room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Panic shot through my entire body as the priest continued to speak, his voice only a droning sound in the back of my mind. What if Andreas had told his father? He wouldn’t… would he? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Augustus Adair glanced over his shoulder at us, shooting us a pearly smile and conservative wave before looking up front once more. There was a certain glint in his eyes that did not resemble tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shudder ran through my body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew. He had to.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Should've known better than to think Andreas wasn’t close enough to his father to mention it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I scratched the back of my neck, suddenly feeling the humidity hit me all at once. Luckily, no one really noticed except Joshua, who gave me a quick glance, but said nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ceremony went without a hitch. Irene still hadn’t shown by the time Mr. Knightley’s coffin was being lowered into the ground, or by the time one of Mr. Knightley’s fathers  had gone up to say a few words, or by the time the dirt had settled and the Knightley children were left to stare down the place where their father had been buried, their feet inches away from the splayed, fresh soil. The youngest Knightley child, who I’d learned was named Bernadette, sniffled while Henrietta fished a handkerchief out of her dress pocket. Benjamin only stood nearby, looking on. It was still strange, though… no one had even so much as acknowledged Irene’s absence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As we made our way out of the cemetery and towards the parking lot, Joshua and Ashley still walked at either side of me, and I couldn’t help but ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ashley didn’t know anything, either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Joshua did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m actually not sure, but I think I heard someone say it before the funeral.” His tired cocoa-colored eyes met mine. “Irene Knightley’s apparently in jail right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Ashley and I blurted at the same time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joshua hesitated. “She’s the main suspect for… y’know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my head. This all just got more and more insane by the minute. “I mean, I got a weird vibe from her at the gala, but…” I unlocked my car, but still hung back to stand and talk with them near a light pole in the grass. “I mean, I don’t know if she…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s true.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three of us looked to the side to find the Adairs walking over to us. “I talked to the officers on her case.” Augustus continued, hitching his thumbs in his pockets as he and Andreas stood beside us. “And based on the wounds, they found that the perpetrator was definitely left handed. That ruled out Ben and Henrietta. Bernadette’s left handed, but had an alibi because she was sleeping over at a friend’s house.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not like she was a main suspect to begin with, considering she’s, y’know,</span>
  <em>
    <span> eight</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Andreas added in his signature snarky way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joshua covertly snickered. It was probably in poor taste, with the situation and all, but I supposed we all needed some light heartedness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Irene is left handed?” Ashley questioned as she spared Joshua a quick glare. He composed himself immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure is.” Augustus sighed. “Plus, the murder weapon was one of her pairs of fabric scissors. It was left in the trash.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And there were no signs of forced entry?” Ashley pressed gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None.” Andreas offered. He glanced up at his father for approval. Augustus nodded, as if to tell him to go on. So he did. “So they figured it had to be one of the people in the house that night. Considering the criteria, along with the fact that Irene was the one who allegedly found him at three in the morning, she was the only suitable candidate.” Either Augustus had told Andreas all of the details or he was at the police station with him during the investigation. Whichever it was, he and his father seemed to still be as close as they were at the airport. And I still wasn’t sure how I felt about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas only made eye contact with me for a second before subtly looking away. I supposed it was a little weird, realizing the events of last week when he was surrounded by friends and family. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not like I couldn’t say I felt the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing the same boy I’d ravaged just two weeks before, right in front of me while my coworkers discussed the murder case of my former boss wasn’t greatly ideal, either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Augustus Adair adjusted his right cufflink and shook his head. “It’s sad, really. I thought I knew Irene. But I suppose you can’t trust anyone these days, can you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His unnaturally blue eyes pointedly met my own as he said this. The contact sent a shiver down my spine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man tilted his head and smiled, however, as his gaze abruptly broke off mine. “But enough of that. The three of you are heading to the wake, correct?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We all nodded, except Ashley. “Sorry, Augustus, but my parents are flying in and I need to pick them up from the airport.” She promptly explained. “But could you give Benjamin, Henrietta, and Bernadette my condolences?” If I could speak right then, I would’ve begged her not to leave me with them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Augustus nodded to her in approval. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She waved goodbye as she headed over to her car nearby, which, to my surprise, was a shiny new silver Tesla. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I kept forgetting, over and over again, that I was surrounded by prodigies. Ones who’ve made ungodly amounts of money. I involuntarily glanced at Andreas. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Including him, apparently. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet he never at all mentioned it. I still couldn’t quite figure out </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, Joshua, Jackson, would you like to ride with us?” Augustus offered cheerily. “We can drop you off here again afterward. Besides, it’ll give us much more time to… talk.” Once again, he was looking at me as he said this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He definitely knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I opened my mouth to decline, but Joshua hastily interrupted me before I could. “No yeah, we’d love that, Mr. Adair. Thank you so much.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost as if on cue, a sleek black limo pulled up behind us. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent.” Augustus smiled, revealing unnaturally sharp canines. “Come, then.” Andreas didn’t react as we climbed in afterward, sitting across from us in plush leather seats. The car departed from the cemetery and towards Meridian Hall for the wake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which, to my dismay, was about twenty minutes away. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wonderful</span>
  </em>
  <span>, twenty minutes alone in Augustus Adair’s limo with his son and this coworker I’d barely met until last month. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you do that?” I hissed under my breath at Joshua. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He quickly glanced at Augustus and Andreas, who were whispering about their own thing as the former placed an arm around his son. I watched cautiously as the boy leaned in, his lips dangerously close to touching the older man’s ear. “Don’t you wanna know more?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, man, this is probably our only chance.” Joshua leaned in further, enough to where I could count his long, dark eyelashes. Strangely, I only noticed them now. “At the wake, they’ll be socializing, but here, we have all the opportunity to ask them whatever we want. Within reason, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Fine.” I admitted it, Joshua Patel was smart when he needed to be. But I wasn’t gonna like it. “But if we end up getting killed or kidnapped somehow, it’s your fault.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mischievous shadow of a smile crossed his face. “Deal.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe this was going to be more fun than expected, after all</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Joshua turned to face the Adairs. “So you two mentioned that there were no signs of forced entry, correct?” He asked, his voice suddenly dripping in politeness. It scared me how experienced he seemed with this sort of thing. “Wouldn’t it just be possible that someone didn’t leave any clues?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas shrugged as he sat upright. “Well, sure. But it probably would’ve been damn near impossible.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next to him, Augustus crossed his legs, one of his arms still draped over the shoulders of his son. “Besides, the Knightley home isn’t one where just any normal person can waltz in. Ethan was… well, paranoid. Why he was, I’m not sure. Maybe someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> after him.” The man sighed, leaning back against a headrest. “But unless someone had studied their house in depth beforehand, they couldn’t just get in without them knowing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So the police reasoned that it had to be someone who lived there.” Joshua recapped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Correct.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and even then, sneaking in and out with zero trace is almost unheard of.” Andreas added, his floppy brown hair starting to break from its gelled shape. Augustus reached over to fix it as Andreas kept talking without a hitch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Adairs seemed touchy with each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but remember the time I’d done the same for the boy that morning in his kitchen. The same day we found out Mr. Knightley had died. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...so I hate to say it, but it had to be Mrs. Knightley.” Andreas paused, thinking. “Something still bothers me about that, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joshua leaned forward a bit, obviously a little too comfortable discussing the murder of our former employer. “Oh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas shrugged, more than happy to share his analysis. I was a little off-put by how morbidly casual this conversation was, but what else could I do but sit there and try not to imagine it too much? “They said four of the wounds bruised the ribs. I think one even punctured the bone.” I flinched just imagining how painful that would be. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How long was Mr. Knightley in pain, I wonder?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “The thing is, that’s a lot of strength- to stab someone like that eleven times total.” He looked up at his father. “Isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Augustus grimaced, uncrossing his legs to lean forward, placing his spare elbow on his knee. He’d let his son lead the discussion, it seemed he was now engaged enough to insert himself, too. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> find it a bit strange that Irene allegedly… did that. With fabric scissors, no less. Last time I checked, she wasn’t all that strong. But, well, there’s no one else who could’ve done it. What can we do? No one else was there, so who are we to speculate on the truth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joshua nodded, unblinking as he stroked his chin. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry for all the questions. I guess it’s just unbelievable, you know?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Augustus’ expression visibly relaxed at that. If you could even say that. “It is. Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve seen it coming.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t blame yourself for that, Mr. Adair. You couldn’t have known.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Joshua. You’re right.” He gazed out the passing city through the window, his irises perfectly reflecting the grey skies outside as he sighed. “Some things, I suppose, just can’t be helped.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thanks so much for the support!! see you guys in two weeks!!<br/>make sure to leave a comment for your thoughts!<br/>love ya, and until next time!</p><p>Schedule:<br/>Chapter 28 - Apr. 17<br/>Chapter 29 - May 1</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Jackson Peters and Joshua Patel attend a wake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters gains a greater understanding of Joshua Patel. Speculation on the death of Ethan Knightley occurs.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello my honeys!! thank you for waiting so patiently!! <br/>and I just wanna say tysm for helping me reach 100 kudos and 4K reads!! y’all really are the best omg I love you guys so much 😭😭<br/>song rec today is “Carry You” by Novo Amor - like the previous song rec, it also reflects loss, but a different aspect that I think is also important</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>We arrived at the hall not long after. Joshua made sure to hang back by me while the Adairs walked briskly ahead, murmuring between themselves about their own thing. Andreas laughed at something Augustus said. My stomach twisted at the sight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you think they’re talking about?” Joshua mused quietly. He leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear. I ignored the memories it conjured. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shrugged, hoping it wasn’t a serious question. Because if I had to give a serious answer, it likely wasn’t going to be a pretty one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We entered the same ballroom that had held the Abernathy anniversary gala only the month before. Although the same shimmering gold light rested upon the visitors, the visitors were now mourners. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I watched Andreas and his father approach the Knightley children, surprising sincerity written on their faces. Joshua and I awkwardly hung by the door. It seemed like he was the only person I remotely knew here, and he felt the same. He placed his hands in his pockets as he leaned onto the wall behind us. His eyes were alert behind his gold wire glasses. Like he was on edge. “Do you really think Augustus Adair had nothing to do with it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A shiver ran up my spine at the thought. Augustus Adair’s cold eyes staring into my soul, the pale blue veins in his capable hands… “Well…” I shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t know, Ashley said he had an alibi, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joshua’s voice dropped to a whisper as he cautiously watched the man in question across the room. “Well, guys like him don’t need to do their dirty work themselves, do they?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I watched Augustus Adair, who sipped at a glass of wine while he listened to the Knightley children talk. He gazed at me from across the room for only a moment before his eyes slipped away once more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… I don’t know. It’s a serious accusation…” I grabbed a glass myself from the table nearby, pouring myself some wine too. Besides, I believed Ashley. It’s not like she’d let Augustus manipulate her like that. Ashley was smart about that. Right? “Why are you so insistent on this anyway?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joshua looked at me as if just realized my presence. “I- Jesus. I am, aren’t I?” He bit his bottom lip as he averted his gaze. “It’s just… I don’t know. There’s just no way it’s all this simple. You heard them yourself, Irene physically couldn’t have done it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But what if it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> that simple?” I pressed as I leaned back against the wall next to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grimaced, running his thumb against his opposite wrist. “The Knightleys helped my little brother and I out when we needed it most. Mrs. Knightley can be cold, but she’s not… </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> that. And Mr. Knightley- there’s no reason why his wife would do that to him. They’re good people. Both of them. So there </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be something else.” He asserted it not like he believed it himself, but more like he wanted to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Man, had I been there before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shrugged, trying to manage any sympathy I could. “Sometimes there’s stuff we don’t know about going on in someone’s relationship. Maybe they had a fight.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe.” He shook his head as he scoffed. “Sorry I’m laying all this on you. You’re a pretty good listener, though.” Without warning, he took the wine from my hand and took a swig of it before handing it back, all in one fluid motion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shaking off my bewilderment, I blinked rapidly. I mean, I wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>mad</span>
  </em>
  <span> that he did that. Strangely, the action reminded me of Andreas, and that made my ears unbearably warm. “I- oh. Um. Thanks. I- uh, actually, Ashley said the same thing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I urged my heart to settle down as I stared, one of his eyes being obscured by a strand of loose ringlet curls. “Um, yeah. Back at the Sapphire Lodge.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He paused, as if running through the events of that trip all over again. “Ah.” A faint blush crept across his tanned cheekbones. “Right, uh… about the whole… Andreas thing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh? “I’m sorry. About that. It’s not your fault your intern is such a handful.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, he had no idea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But regardless, I was glad for the change in subject. “Yeah. It’s not that big a deal. She, um, also told me you two dated at some point?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckled to himself with surprising genuinity. It seemed like he wasn’t easily embarrassed, only occasionally sheepish when you first met him. It was refreshing. He was different from what I expected. “Yeah. Bad night for me.” He leaned in to where he could talk directly into my ear. Since he was about three or four inches shorter than me, I decided to lean down, too. “Between you and me, Jackson: I get really clingy when I’m drunk.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I laughed with him quietly as mourners continued to murmur amongst themselves, occasionally chuckling at fond memories of the deceased. Not like I wanted to think about that. Right now, I felt better about everything, if only for a few seconds. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who knew me and Joshua Patel could be so comfortable around each other? That he’d be so willing to open up? Maybe it was just the atmosphere, but suddenly, I had a feeling maybe it was because he was more talkative in one-on-one conversations. I could also flatter myself and say it was because I was easy to talk to for him, but I doubted it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I kind of want to see that.” I replied earnestly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn’t imagine a perfectly composed Joshua Patel leaning against a bar patron’s shoulder and crying his eyes out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trust me, you don’t.” A smile crept across his face as he took my glass again. “If you’re around when it happens, I might just try to take you home instead.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I choked despite not being the one out of us two who was currently drinking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> type of clingy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not the crying type, but the shamelessly, persistently flirty one. “I- uh…” I turned away, hoping he wouldn’t notice how I was blushing profusely now. “That’s… uh…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m obviously kidding, Jackson.” He mused from just out of my view, amusement lilting his words. God, suddenly he was all too much like Andreas. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even then, Joshua wouldn’t want me like that. He wasn’t… </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> me. He was younger. He was perfect and an upstanding guy- it was just a joke. I waited for his next words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Besides, that’s disgusting. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Besides, I’m straight.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Besides, you’re a fucking freak. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“-Besides, Ashley already told me you’re engaged. Congrats, by the way.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I finally turned back to him. “Wait, you… You’re…?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cocked a brow, challenging me. “Yeah?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re like me?</span>
  </em>
  <span> I wanted to ask. “Are you…” I tried to swallow, despite the sudden dryness in my throat. “You know…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not gay, if that’s what you’re asking.” He stated bluntly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah. My heart sank. I got my hopes up that I’d finally meet someone I’d connect to, how stupidly desperate of me. “Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t mean it like-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not straight, either, if that’s what you’re apologizing for.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I blinked. “Oh.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ohhh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It took me about five seconds too long to understand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you’re-?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bisexual?” He offered. Joshua shrugged with one shoulder. “Well. You could say that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I tilted my head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joshua pushed back his hair as he laughed lightly. I forgot sometimes that even if he and Ashley were both only six years younger than me, that didn’t mean they weren’t… well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>younger </span>
  </em>
  <span>than me. There were obviously a lot of things I didn’t know. And probably a lot I could learn from them, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s just say I don’t really… </span>
  <em>
    <span>care</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You know?” He shrugged nonchalantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like… at all?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At all.” Joshua met my eyes, a new light in them. “You know, I’m surprised no one at work told you yet.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it… a hot topic?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly the most popular person at work.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. Neither was I. It’s not like I was involved in that many talks at the water cooler these days.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not like I haven’t noticed Joshua only talking to the other department heads, either. I just assumed he was too busy to talk to anyone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry.” There wasn’t much else to say. To be avoided and even hated for something like that… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>could that happen to me, too?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You idiot, of course it would. Your case is worse than his. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not your fault.” Joshua tipped his head back to down the rest of my wine before wordlessly handing the empty glass back to me. I could only be mildly peeved that he took my drink. It was exhilarating to know if befriended another coworker. Somewhat, at least. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gonna go get some hors d’oeuvres.” He declared to me. “Want anything?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I eyed the bottles of wine and other liquors sitting on the table next to us, open for anyone to pour their own drinks. “I’m good. Thanks, though.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, and Jackson?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Call me Josh.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I blinked, taken aback. That seemed so… familiar. Before I could even respond or ask him if it was really okay, he mock-saluted me before heading towards the other side of the room, disappearing past the crowds of mourners. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now that Joshua- Josh- was gone, I couldn’t help but revert back to why I was even here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dark reality settled in once again like a slap to the face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My boss was dead. He was gone. Someone killed him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And if Josh was onto something, Augustus Adair might’ve had to do with it. My blood ran cold as I remembered how Andreas and Augustus Adair had been leaning in close to each other as they whispered about something that apparently couldn’t be discussed out loud. Andreas’ sincere smile at some of what his father uttered to him, and vice versa. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What if Josh was right? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What if it really wasn’t that simple? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The picture had suddenly inverted into something much more sinister. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Could Andreas have played a role in all of this, too? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. What the hell was I thinking? He was with me that night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But… could he have known? Did he come into work everyday and greet Mr. Knightley with a smile on his face knowing he was going to die? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I scanned the room, trying to find him again, hoping to find grief written across his face- something, anything to prove his innocence- but couldn’t find him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or his father, for that matter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They couldn’t have left early, could they? They said they’d take Josh and I back later. So… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I sighed, careful not to disturb the people around me. I was just overreacting. Joshua Patel’s theories had made me paranoid. Irene Knightley likely did it. There’s no definitive evidence pointing towards why she wouldn’t. And there’s too much evidence that makes her look guilty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unless… she was framed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that’s too elaborate. That’s just me overthinking things. Isn’t it? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As I scanned the room, I couldn’t help but notice the Knightley kids alone. The Adairs weren’t with them anymore. Under the dimly lit chandelier, Henrietta fussed over Bernadette’s reddish gold hair while Benjamin looked on, his silvery blue eyes foggy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He buried his hands in his pockets and stared blankly in the vague direction of his younger sisters. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What I realized is that I hadn’t seen him shed one tear since the day began. Henrietta and Bernadette, on the other hand, had no qualms about openly mourning their father. I’d seen Benjamin take Henrietta’s hand during the burial while she and Bernadette cried quietly, conservatively. Even though he seemed completely solemn, though, the pain was certainly there. Perhaps it hadn’t quite set in yet. The realization that his dad’s dead. At my own dad’s funeral, I don’t remember crying, either. It all happened a year later, when I was drunk out of my mind and alone in my dorm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When I looked at the young man, I couldn’t help but think one thing: </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s the same age as I was when I lost my dad, too.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>And neither of us knew they’d be gone so soon. Neither of us got to say goodbye. Neither of us would be prepared for it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wound that was left behind had already mostly healed for me now, but it was terribly fresh for Benjamin Knightley. I couldn’t even imagine now how much it hurt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If I could’ve said one last thing to Ray, what would it have been? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A declaration of appreciation? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A word of gratitude?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>An apology? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What would Benjamin Knightley say to Ethan Knightley, if he could? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grief has a way of coating your skin, weighing you down only a little at first, before sinking into your flesh, settling on your bones, and deep in your heart, where it stays heavy for a long time. It’s only then you realize, </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh. They’re really gone.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>If Mr. Knightley’s son has already at this point fully realized his loss, though, then his stoic demeanor is probably an act. Benjamin Knightley would probably go home and finally let it all out once his sisters weren’t around to see him do it. He had to be strong for them. For his family. There was a certain air of dignity to him, but now that it was further into the day, the facade seemed to waver a bit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last time I met him, he had stood in nearly the exact same spot in this exact same room. Yet he looked like he’d aged twenty years since that night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I tore my gaze away when I realized he was a spitting image of Ethan Knightley. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>I eventually headed to the bathroom to splash some cool water on my face. I had to stay composed here. I was representing Abernathy, after all. I couldn’t be thinking about something so absurd. I’m just weirdly paranoid. That’s it. That’s all there was to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“-and since Ben’s eighteen, does everything just go to him for now until Hennie and Bernie are old enough?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I froze at the voice. Andreas Adair, his words smooth like honey, was walking down the hall towards the bathroom’s ajar entrance. Quickly, I locked myself in one of the stalls, which, to my convenience, didn’t have any gaps between the doors and was tall enough to reach the floor. I didn’t know what I was doing, I just knew I couldn’t face them right then. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I silently thanked whoever designed these bathrooms for their good taste. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“From what I know, yes. But it’s still somewhat up in the air until Irene’s trial.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I pressed myself to the wall, urging myself not to shrink away from Augustus Adair’s approaching voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course now of all times, I can suddenly find them. Their loafers softly pat against the tile floor as they entered. Carefully, I peered at them through the slots in the door. It was one of the types where people from outside couldn’t look in because of how the wooden panels lining the slots were faced downwards, but inside, you could look out. From a certain angle, at least.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Through my limited view, I could see Andreas sit himself atop the marble sink counter while his father washed his hands at the faucet right next to him. “Hm.” Andreas swung his legs over the edge of the counter, placing his hands behind him so he could lean back on his palms. “Hey, about dinner- how do you feel about French? There was this nice restaurant not far from the house.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Augustus, seeming to know his son well, didn’t even flinch at the sudden change in subject. I couldn’t see his expression while he combed his hair back with his fingers in the reflection, which was also obscured by his form. “Sure. If that’s what you want.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt strange yet again, seeing them behave so civil towards each other, even kind. Then again, from what I could tell, it was only because Augustus wasn’t angry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but wonder how long Andreas looks at his father in fear compared to how he looks at him now, with mundane adoration.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe not.” Andreas sighed. “I never cared for French cuisine much, anyway.” He suddenly perked up. “We could just cook at home, too.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Augustus stopped messing with his hair to turn towards his son, his side profile now visible. “I suppose we haven’t done that in a while.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I still have the ingredients for carbonara.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that, the older man visibly had a reaction. One corner of his lips curved upward, and not much else, but for him, it seemed strangely genuine. But that only made it all the more terrifying. “Sounds good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Augustus Adair grabbed a paper towel. He slowly and methodically dried between each of his fingers as he turned back to Andreas. “We should go find Mr. Knightley’s parents. I’m sure they’re not coping much better than Ben and his sisters.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he noticed it too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Andreas leaned forward to hop off the counter, but before he did, he reached for his father’s sleeve. “Wait. Your tie’s crooked.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Augustus Adair chuckled low, leaning towards Andreas. “And whose fault is that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A shiver ran down my spine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, just come here and let me fix it.” He pulled the man in front of him by his tie, making room between his legs, before using both hands to adjust it. Because of the height of the counter he was sitting on, he was about eye level with Augustus Adair’s chin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was all so… methodical. Comfortable. Is this really what they were like normally?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Andreas’ hands fell back down into his lap, Augustus hadn’t moved a muscle. The former gazed up at the latter for half a second too long before breaking eye contact. “Hey.” He said softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?” Augustus pressed, his voice quiet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Since… you know, the whole thing with the Knightleys, I- well- If… I mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>when</span>
  </em>
  <span> you die…what...” Andreas bit the inside of his cheek before hanging his head, obviously upset just by the mere thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Up until now, Augustus’ general demeanor had been nothing but business, if twinged by a nearly invisible sorrow. But here, his stone cold facade melted away, something vaguely soft in his eyes, softer than I’d seen back at the airport. A sort of tenderness I was guessing he only ever displayed for Andreas. He worked at his bottom lip for a moment, interrupting the firm line in which they always seemed to be pressed. “...everything will go to you, Andreas. No questions asked.” Augustus stepped forward to rest his forehead against Andreas’ shoulder, to which the younger Adair visibly exhaled a thin breath. “I promised I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know that’s not what I meant.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shifted from one foot to another, knowing this was a tender moment I shouldn’t have been intruding on. It wasn’t meant to be seen by anyone else, it was wrong. It was an invasion of their privacy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet I couldn’t stop watching. There was a side of the Adairs here that I’d never had the privilege to see before. Andreas had been vulnerable with both me and Augustus, sure, but here… it’s like he wasn't afraid to be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With me, he would quickly change the subject or run away, but here… it’s like he knew he was safe. Whether or not he really was, I couldn’t say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Augustus Adair? I didn’t know he could act this soft. The first time I’d met him, I wouldn’t have known. But now, with the experience at the airport and here, I wasn’t sure how to feel anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“First the damn EXM-4 scandal, and now this…” Augustus sighed, finally bringing himself to stand upright. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wait. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What was he saying?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not like he had to maintain composure right now. Was Joshua really just wrongfully paranoid? Or was Augustus hiding something, even in his vulnerable state? From Andreas? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he seemed so genuine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I didn’t doubt that Augustus Adair had no qualms about lying to Andreas. The thought of Andreas putting complete trust in him didn’t hurt any less, though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” Andreas replied gently. He rested a hand on his father’s forearm. “None of it is your fault, though.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Augustus then pulled his arm away, not forcefully, but deliberately. Andreas only looked slightly hurt by that. “Does it matter?” The older man murmured. “I still have to fix it. Maybe I’ll go back to the police station, see if they’ve found anything new.” His eyes set in stony resolve. A look that was chillingly similar to the one in Mr. Knightley’s expression, one of the last times I ever saw him alive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take me with you, then.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Augustus responded firmly. “Stay home and focus on your internship. Ashley told me you were helping her with a new trial report.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andreas pouted a little in response, but otherwise seemed to know better than to argue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t make that face.” His father chuckled. In one smooth motion, he pushed Andreas’ hair, now completely out of place, away from his forehead. “I’ll relay the important details back to you.” His expression suddenly turned cold again. “But remember: if you find anything wrong at the labs, tell me immediately. We need to fix this before it gets even more out of hand. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>be careful </span>
  </em>
  <span>about who you trust, okay? There are people out there who will do anything to ruin us.” His voice quieted as he spoke, as if fearing that someone would walk in right then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which, now that I think about, we were lucky didn’t happen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andreas nodded urgently. “...okay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” Andreas fought off a smile as Augustus praised him and briefly squeezed his knee in passing. “I’ll be out there. Use the time to compose yourself some more, then find me later.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then his pale blue eyes directly met mine through the slots, and I stumbled back. He knew. He had to. He’d known this entire time, hadn’t he? How?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All the other stall doors were closed, too. There wasn’t any space to see my feet from underneath the door. And it’s not like the paneling allowed you to see inside, either. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Augustus Adair’s footsteps had faded into nothing down the hall, Andreas’ fond demeanor had quickly shifted into seriousness as he sighed, running a hand through his hair, which was now fully tousled, but still a good look on him regardless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” He said sharply. “You can come out now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I froze. Shit. He knew, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I stood still, unsure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, I won’t be mad, but I will be if you keep me waiting.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reluctantly, I undid the lock and stepped out into his view. Andreas arched a brow. “Jackson? Huh, what’re the odds? Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to eavesdrop?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Andreas, I’m sorry, I panicked, and it’s not like I could’ve just left and interrupted you guys-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped me with a wry chuckle. “It’s fine, Jackson, really. There was nothing to interrupt.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean… you and your father were… having a moment. I think.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andreas shrugged, though I could tell he was at least a little annoyed. “It’s no big deal.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You two seem close, is all.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He paused, his hand still midair as he examined his nailbeds. Slowly, his dark eyes lifted to meet mine, something stirring beneath them. Like oil threatening to ignite any second. “What is that supposed to mean?” Andreas asked slowly, as if restraining himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing, I just- an observation.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The intern rolled his eyes at me as he leaned back on his hands once more. “Look, a lot of people make assumptions about me and my father based on </span>
  <em>
    <span>observations</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was like the switch flipped again. He had the warmest demeanor with Augustus Adair, yet only seconds later, he was cold with me. And for what? We hadn’t talked since I was at his house that night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not what I was suggesting, Andreas.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then what </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> you suggesting, Jackson?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>not-so-fun-fact but: it'll take a while before Noah and Joel Emerson can look at Benjamin Knightley without seeing Ethan instead</p>
<p>Schedule: <br/>Chapter 29 - May 1<br/>Chapter 30 - not written yet, TBD</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Jackson Peters meets Ethan Knightley’s replacement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson Peters meets the woman appointed by Augustus Adair to take Ethan Knightley’s place as director of operations at Abernathy Labs. The rest of the Kim family (except the dogs) is revealed.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>good day your royal highnesses!! I offer you one (1) more PWF chapter!! and oh you’re gonna love this, you’ve also unlocked four (4!) new characters!!!<br/>song rec is “Sweet Tooth” by Scott Helman - it’s an absolute trip</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A stall door slammed from the women’s restroom next to ours, both of us jumping at the jarring sound. We were so enveloped in our conversation that we didn’t even notice someone else had entered the hall outside. Did that person hear? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nonetheless, the tension had been forcibly lessened, if only a bit. Andreas glanced in my direction one last time before hopping off the counter, wincing as he took a step towards the exit. My hands shot out towards him for support, but he instinctively jerked away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” he muttered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Strange. Did he land wrong?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My hand shot out to grip his wrist before I could stop myself. In that very second, I didn’t know how or why, but it did, and I realized I had to warn him about his father. He wouldn’t listen-he probably loved him too much- but if Augustus Adair really had something to do with all this and was lying to Andreas about it, I couldn’t just let it happen. “Andreas.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The feeling of his skin against mine once more was electrifying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swiftly tugged his arm back to his own chest. “Don’t touch me.” He growled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you could just listen to me- I think your dad could be lying to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes ignited, as if in warning. “Why would he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, I couldn’t very well tell him I suspected his father of murder, could I? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I didn’t immediately answer, Andreas scoffed. “What, and you think I should trust you over him? I think I would know if my own father were lying to me, Mr. Peters.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took a step back. As if the distance would make that question hurt a little less. Why was I upset? Of course he’d trust his own father more than me. That was only common sense. What was I even doing, saying this? What did I think I could accomplish?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas’ previous question wasn’t meant to be answered. Yet when I didn’t respond, he scoffed again, shaking his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He carefully walked out, not bothering to look back as he left without another word. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>I found myself in the lobby again. I looked up the staircase and couldn’t help but remember the night Andreas had stood up there, staring at my back. And waited for me to face him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only now, atop the staircase, towards the middle, was a plain black stand holding a gilded frame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And within that frame were grey-blue eyes, the corners of which were crinkled with laughter. A genuine, friendly light that I’d never seen in anyone else. And an honest smile that never failed to lift me up. Until now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had been selfish, trying desperately to look back on past experiences and focus on the people here now. Running away from my emotions. So much so that I almost forgot what this was all for. Ethan Knightley deserved much more, and the least I could do was properly commemorate the day meant to celebrate his life. And contemplate his death. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No matter how unusual the circumstances… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gazed at the portrait of the same man who used to walk into work everyday with a grin, his eyes bright and his hands ready to clasp your shoulder as if you were his own son. The same man who had used one of his last days alive to warn me about… something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We never got to finish talking. He never reached out to me the rest of that week, either. But what was it he needed to tell me? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quietly, I gazed vaguely skyward as I uttered some parting words to the man. I owed him that much. “I won’t let you down, Mr. Knightley. I’ll find out what’s going on. I’ll avenge you. And find out the truth.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chill ran down my spine as I uttered the next words. “No matter what it takes.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Already?” I leaned against Della’s desk, her expression grim after she’d just told me that the new director was already starting today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Adair wants to make sure the labs stay under as much supervision as possible. That means as little a waiting period between switching management as possible.” She shrugged, her magenta blazer matching her grimacing lips. Then, in a lower voice, she remarked, “They cleaned out his office two days after… you know. It’s almost like they were ready for it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hm. Almost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nervous tap of Della’s acrylic nails kept me rooted. I knew that if the sharp clicking sound wasn’t there, neither would my mind. I had so many things to think about. Aside from the obvious, it felt like Andreas and I had a rift between us once again, and I can’t help but blame Augustus Adair. I mean, of course I don’t know how I’d pick up where we left off, considering what happened, but I thought we were getting close again. And that whole situation wasn’t great, either, because now that I’ve slept with him, I know what it’s like. And I know I wanted more. I wanted so much more, it was like I needed a fix or something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there’s the ever-present buzzing in my head, reverberating from my skull to the bottom of my spine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there’s the guilt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there’s the empty bottles of Jack in my trash can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A vicious cycle, really. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what else was I supposed to do, confide in someone? Be honest with my family? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, that would tear them apart. I had to protect them as best I could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though I’d already done so much to betray them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I blinked hard, hoping I could find something else to think about, but came up with nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyways, the new manager will be here around noon. Do what you need to do, and the intercoms will announce that the department heads need to head to the convention space for a quick introduction.” Della nodded at me. “That means you, biochem co-head.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took a deep breath, unsure. Some of Mr. Knightley’s last words echoed back to me. I can’t be certain that who he talked about is the same person who’s coming in today, but if it is…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“She’s a very stern woman, very professional. If it does happen to be her who takes power around here, she’ll be watchin’ all of you like a hawk, per Adair’s orders.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Another soldier in Augustus Adair’s army. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just what we needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If this woman is another pawn, then Augustus is the king. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then that would make Andreas the queen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or another pawn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he’s playing at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet… </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not sure if it’s my place to say, but I believe he might be involved-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>No. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Noon came before I knew it. I needed to focus. That’s what Knightley would’ve wanted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ashley nudged me with her elbow as we walked our way to the designated room. “Hey. Are you alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, of course.” I slapped on a weak smile. “You?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged, the braid on her shoulder shifting with the movement. “As alright as I can be, I suppose.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So not good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think the new manager’s gonna be like?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ashley crossed her arms as we filed into the convention auditorium, her eyes suddenly sad. “Different. Not Knightley, that’s for sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Right.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It all still felt unreal. Like I’d wake up and discover this was all some weird dream. Some horrible, fucked up nightmare. And that I’d go into work and Mr. Knightley would still be there at the front desk, gossiping with Della. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But no. This was all painfully real. So now all I could do was fulfill Knightley’s one last request… and my last resolution. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you everyone for coming!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The voice of Joshua Patel politely screeched over the intercoms. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Once everyone is seated, we will offer a warm welcome to the new manager of Abernathy Labs.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I have the right idea of who it is, she’ll be </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Ashley sat in the leather auditorium seat next to me. Ahead of us was an elevated hardwood stage, where speakers usually came to talk to our scientists or where our scientists spoke to students here on internships or field trips. Abernathy also held a few conventions a year for investors or future employees, so it’s not like the auditorium wasn’t in regular use. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good afternoon, everyone!” At the podium, Josh stepped aside, making way for... </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> just out of our view. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you have work to do, so let’s get straight to business and give a round of applause to our newest addition to the team!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Polite clapping erupted from every direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did Ashley just say hell?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I gulped silently. “Uh- just out of curiosity, don’t mind me- um, who exactly are we talking about here?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The only woman who can handle all three of the Kim triplets at once. Their mom.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then I saw her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A woman in a black pantsuit, her blazer without a wrinkle or even a speck of dust in sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heels clacking rhythmically against the hardwood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her lips crimson, like blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her ebony hair arranged in a tight braid updo, not one hair loose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes unnaturally focused, like those of a falcon settling on its prey. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her skin as pale and smooth as porcelain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Really, she looked more like a doll than a human. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could see the subtle features she passed down to each of her three children, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gave all three of them her pointed chin, thin nose, and honed jawline. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But when she smiled, she smiled Augustus Adair’s sterile, too-sharp, too-white smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name is Camille Kim.” Her fluid voice carried over the crowd with the same conviction of Ethan Knightley, yet her tone was exponentially different. She settled her gaze among us, her polite smile not quite reaching her eyes. “You may call me Director Kim or Mrs. Kim. Thank you for this opportunity. I’m honored to be appointed here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ashley covertly exchanged looks with me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, we are all deeply saddened by the news of Ethan Knightley’s passing…” She continued, her voice only slightly dipping in tone. “He was a great and capable man. But of course, he would have wanted us to continue his legacy and bring this facility to even higher heights.” Capable was a strange way to describe Mr. Knightley. Not even really accurate, either. What I think Camille Kim was going for was… adequate. Which in this case meant “good, but not enough.” From the way Ashley fiddled with the end of her braid, I could tell she was thinking along the lines of the same thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, I don’t want to keep you all for long.” Mrs. Kim folded her hands neatly atop the edge of the podium. “As Mr. Patel had said, you all have a lot of work to get done. However, if you have any remaining questions, I’ll be in the main lobby for the next hour with my assistant, Audra Darlington. I hope we can all work well together. I look forward to our collaboration.” She briefly nodded to bid us farewell, and just as quickly as she had been ushered into the role of Mr. Knightley, she had disappeared as well, the rhythmic click of her heels the only thing left of her on stage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was… efficient.” Ashley muttered as we were quickly ushered out of the auditorium. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This definitely could’ve been an email.” I noted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ashley snorted in response. “Yeah, no kidding.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I noticed a few people stray off the intersection back towards the labs and offices… and instead towards the front lobby. “Should we…?” I pointed in their direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ashley shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t have any questions for… her, but you can go if you want. I think I saw Andreas and the triple A’s head over there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mention of Andreas’ name both filled me with dread and joy. “I… guess I’ll go, then. See ya.” I waved her off as I headed towards the sound of chatter. I didn’t know yet if I was ready to see Andreas again after what happened at Knightley’s wake. Or if I was ready to face Camille Kim yet. She seemed a little more… intense than her kids were, that’s for sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I quickly caught sight of Della at the front desk chatting with a woman I’d never seen before with braids tied up and behind her head. Her skin was darker than mine, but… warmer, in a sense. She was young. She held a clipboard to her chest like her life depended on it. A cute habit, really. She must’ve been Mrs. Kim’s assistant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Della waved me over. “Jackson!” She chirped in the way she only did when she was talking in front of new people. “This is Audra. She says she’s been Mrs. Kim’s assistant for two years.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bingo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young woman in question smiled brightly at me as if it were second nature. But not Camille Kim’s cold, sterilized smile. This one was her own, slightly lopsided and all. “Hi. Nice to meet you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Subtle British accent, too. “Nice to meet you, too.” I held out a hand for her to shake. She took it. Despite her warmth in demeanor, her slim hands were actually deathly freezing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… two years, huh? What’s it like working for Mrs. Kim?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Audra somehow smiled even wider when I asked. “Oh, it’s wonderful. Her and her family are lovely. The best part by far, though, are their dogs. The sweetest things, they are.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lovely wasn’t exactly the way I would’ve described any family the triple A’s were involved in. Were we talking about the same family? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Audra.” Andreas and the Kim kids approached her as if they were all good friends at a Christmas party. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, everyone!” Audra beamed even more at the four of them. “Oh, Andreas!” She cupped his face in her hands and kind of just… squished him? What was definitely more surprising was Andreas simply tolerating it, though. “You’ve gotten to be so big! It’s been too long, hasn’t it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a little jarring, I had to admit, to see a woman in her early twenties gush over teenagers as if she were their grandmother. Della and I watched as if she were the new animal at the zoo. “We just saw you a few months ago, though.” Aaron said, unable to fight the smile off his face when she released Andreas to reach over to ruffle each and every one of the Kim kids’ hair, going down the line. To Alice, though, she offered a hug instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? It felt so long ago! How’s Asher? How’s your father? I’d love to hear about-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Byeol, Chin-Hae, and Soo-Yun Kim, you have a lot of explaining to do.” We all spun around at the authoritative voice, finding Camille Kim glaring at her triplets so hard that you’d think steam would be coming out of her ears. Over her shoulder, I saw Travis Smith looking… a little confused. And next to him, Joshua Patel looked a bit guilty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, it’s Mom.” Aidan instinctively hid behind Aaron, who wasn’t any taller. Aaron then nervously stepped behind Alice, who was shorter than them both. “Let’s get outta here before-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Camille Kim quickly made her way to me, Della, Andreas, Audra, and her children in a handful of powerful strides. She looked like a hit man zeroing in on her target. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Della quickly went back to talking with Audra on the side- they probably both figured they didn’t want to see this- while Andreas and I were left to watch the show. He leaned in slightly so the Kims wouldn’t hear. “They’re fucked.” He noted in a matter-of-fact way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know?” I whispered back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Camille </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> uses their Korean names. When she calls them by those, they know they have to start praying.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glanced at the three siblings and did in fact notice Aidan looking heavenward as if this would be his last day on earth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Director Kim barely even noticed me and Andreas off to the side or Josh and Travis trailing behind her, shooting apologetic looks to the triple A’s. By the looks of it, they must’ve accidentally told their mother what happened at the Sapphire Lodge. Or what happened their entire internship. Either way, I could see why they were kept in line their entire childhood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you mind explaining to me why you three left the Sapphire Lodge during the intern retreat when it was implied that you should not?” Mrs. Kim’s eyes flitted toward Alice, who shrank back at her gaze. “Or how you managed to set fire to one of the labs?” She switched her glare to the two boys, who avoided looking at her directly. “Or perhaps you’d like to explain why your father says you tried to sled off the roof yesterday.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas snickered in the corner of my eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Kim’s wrathful gaze switched to him, but was immediately offset by a mischievous smile, as if she was only noticing Andreas there now. “Oh, great, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> asshole.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So much for professionalism and being glad to collaborate with us. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shrank back, too, almost feeling sorry for the guy before realizing he was smirking at her, his eyes playfully devious. “I’m surprised your memory still works, hag.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cunt.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Director Kim mussed up Andreas’ already-messy hair, and suddenly the tension dissolved. “Glad to see you haven’t changed. I’m guessing you’re the one who’s enabling all this, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged, a smug grin on his face. “I may have come up with the sledding thing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Kim nodded her disdain before finally resting her gaze on me. Her smile wavered. An immediate sense of dread settled in my bones. “Ah, I remember Augustus mentioning you. Jackson Peters, was it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded. I wanted to offer her a gracious smile of my own, but only really offered a nervous grin. “Yes. Hello. I’m the co-head of the biochemics department.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinked. “And where’s the head?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She headed back to her lab.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas nodded towards the hall. “I can go get her if you want.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, I’ll do it.” Alice quickly offered. Aidan quietly trailed behind her. He glanced at Aaron, but Aaron shook his head to say “I’ll stay here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I awkwardly stood, knowing I couldn’t go with them. But also knowing Camille didn’t even want to pretend to care about my existence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas looked back to Mrs. Kim, smiling casually again, like he always did. In public, at least. “So, uh, how’s SJ? And the little potato?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I furrowed my brow. “Um, potato?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Camille could get a word in, Aaron jumped in instead. “Me, Alice, and Aidan’s little brother.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas grinned at me, an obvious fake one just for show in front of Mrs. Kim. He didn’t seem to be on completely good terms with me just yet. Not like I blamed him at all for that. I didn’t expect him to forgive me after what happened at Meridian Hall. “But we call him Potato.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-Which you should stop doing because he hates it.” Camille stated. As if realizing why she actually came over, she turned her ever-present glare on Aaron, who didn’t flinch this time. “When your brother and sister come back, let them know the three of you are grounded again. Your dad’s damn well going to have a heart attack if you three keep making trouble.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron nodded as if this wasn’t new information. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas whistled low. “That’s cold, Camille. They couldn’t even attend the anniversary gala because they were grounded. Now that they’re recently ungrounded, you’re just gonna ground them again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Director Kim rolled her eyes at him, but noticeably not menacingly. “Last time they were grounded, it was also deserved. They almost burned the house down. Besides, who sets off cheap fireworks on the front lawn in </span>
  <em>
    <span>September</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People who are really enthusiastic about Labor Day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t defend them, Andreas.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas glanced at Aaron, who gave him a look that said, “Yeah no, we deserved it.” He shrugged. “If you really wanted to punish them, why don’t you just take away their phones?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron made an unintelligible vindicated sound. I felt like I was watching reality TV at this point, but so long as I wasn’t acknowledged, I wasn’t gonna try switching channels. It was like a crazy crossover event, or like watching martians interact. All of it was just so new. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grounding my kids isn’t just a punishment, Andreas, it’s also damage control. They can’t accidentally destroy Seattle if we don’t let them loose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas grinned. “But I certainly can do it for them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She parted her lips to continue her scolding, but then caught sight of someone over my shoulder. “Ah. You must be Ashley Nakamura, the head of the biochemics department, correct?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We turned to face the woman in question, who bristled under the sudden attention. Nervously, Ashley stroked her braid. “Yes, Mrs. Kim. It’s very nice to meet you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm. And where are my kin?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ashley blinked. “Oh. Oh, Alice and Aidan. They said they needed to get something from the break room.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An excuse to get away from me, I suppose. No matter. We have a few matters of our own to discuss.” Camille waved Andreas, Aaron, and I off while she and Ashley branched off to have their own conversation. Ashley furtively exchanged a glance with me before she was quickly ushered away by the new director of Abernathy Labs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Left alone, Andreas looked at me before deciding to rest his eyes on Aaron instead. His expression was lighter when he did so. By the way Aaron subtly averted his eyes to the floor, though, I guessed he and Andreas weren’t on much better terms than me and him. Andreas cleared his throat. “So, Alice told me Oxford asked you to join their fencing program next year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron shrugged, making sure to spare me a quick glance before answering. “Yeah. I’m kinda taking a gap year, though. I’ll probably just finish the internship and… train some more beforehand.” He lifted his eyes. “You should come to Oxford with me. With your credentials, they’d be stupid not to accept you right away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again, shaking his head. “I… don’t know. My father probably won’t let me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s… because of me, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas bit his lip. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron self-consciously looked over at me, and only then did I remember that this probably wasn’t a conversation I was supposed to witness. He coughed as if just remembering that himself, too. “Ha. Well, looks like I’ll just have to find another even match.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not like I ever ended up beating you, anyway, Stabby. Hit up Nils, though, he’s been practicing.” Andreas smiled wryly at his friend before catching sight of me again. “You know, Mr. Peters, Aaron’s actually been titled the youngest person ever to enter the international top ten list of sabre fencers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron blushed as he looked literally anywhere but Andreas and I’s faces. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, congrats. That’s really cool.” I never figured this awkward and somewhat socially inept kid would be a star fencer. I couldn’t imagine him swinging a sword around so precisely. Was it a sword? Or was it called a foil? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then again, I certainly couldn’t see Aidan being the modern Mozart, either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron Kim jerkily nodded, still not making eye contact. “Thanks. I, uh, don’t think it’s that cool.” He laughed a little nervously. “I think Alice has got both me and Aidan beat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s Alice do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron moved to answer, but Andreas stopped him with a hand on his upper arm. “No don’t- he’ll figure it out eventually.” Now I was incredibly curious, and wanted to ask more, but was interrupted by the sound of a baby babbling behind me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned to find a man who looked suspiciously like an exact version of Aaron and Aidan Kim but older and with longer hair, as if he was just a little past due for a haircut. But it worked for him. He was even wearing one of those baby slings which attached your baby to your chest. I’d admittedly never seen anyone wear one of those in public, but it seemed to work for him and for the baby in question. Who was currently being poked at by Joshua Patel and Travis Smith. Andreas and Aaron began to casually walk over, so I had no choice but to do the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Upon closer inspection, the man with the baby carrier looked about Camille Kim’s age, maybe younger. He was also dressed in a blue dress shirt and black slacks. The baby was dressed in a monkey onesie, their little hood pulled up. Honestly, just looking at them made my heart swell, they were just so goddamn </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How old is it?” Travis asked from a safe distance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joshua smacked Travis’ arm with his free hand, the other currently being held in a death grip by the baby. “Stop calling children ‘it,’ Trav.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was alarmed at the insinuation that he’s done this on multiple occasions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dad chuckled. He laughed almost as warmly as Audra. “No, no, it’s alright. He’s a little more than five months old now.” He spoke softly, too. His voice was like melted white chocolate. Not only that, but he spoke carefully and clearly, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glanced quickly at Aaron, then at the older man again. Yup. No doubt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This man was his father. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So that means the baby was…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Potato!” Andreas greeted. At that, the baby, who was positioned so that he could face outward, wriggled a little in discontent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Kims’ father smiled. I admittedly felt a little jealous of Camille Kim at that moment. “Oh, come on, he doesn’t look</span>
  <em>
    <span> that</span>
  </em>
  <span> much like a potato anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Travis and Joshua snickered over the nickname. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t mean we’re ever gonna let him live it down.” Aaron grinned over at Andreas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I bet you won’t.” At that, the baby started to reach out to Aaron with their free arm, grasping at air towards his direction.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron promptly held out his arms. “Oh- I got him, Dad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron’s father nodded. “Alright. I entrust him to you.” He easily maneuvered the kid, who had finally let go of Josh’s hand, out of the sling and into Aaron’s arms. The baby- Potato- whatever his name was- surprisingly seemed just as content resting his head on his older brother’s shoulder. “You boys don’t go too far, okay?” Mr. Kim said as he rolled up the cloth sling and tucked it under his arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We won’t!” Andreas and Aaron, baby in possession, proceeded to hop off to god-knows-where with the child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, sorry.” Aaron's father sheepishly sighed. He turned to me, his eyes bright behind his glasses. “I never even had the chance to introduce myself. My name is Seung-Jae Pak, I’m Camille’s husband. I hope our kids haven’t caused you too much trouble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Josh, Travis, and I exchanged glances. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all.” Josh stated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ve been great.” I offered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Total angels.” Travis agreed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, you don’t have to lie to me, I’ve known Aaron, Aidan, and Alice for seventeen years, after all.” Seung-Jae still wore a casual, gentle smile despite thinking of how troublesome they were. “I know they’ve been a nightmare. Sorry about all that. They’ve been a rowdy bunch since they were kids.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Josh shook his head to himself. “You and Director Kim must have your hands full all the time. Too bad they didn’t inherit your temperament, huh, Mr. Kim?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seung-Jae Kim threw his head back and laughed, the first sign of mild vulgarity I had seen from him. “Oh, Mr. Patel, I’m quite grateful they didn’t, actually. You know, at their age, I’d already </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Travis, Josh, and I exchanged wide-eyed glances. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, but that’s a story for another day.” Seung-Jae’s eyes twinkled with amusement at our curiosity. “Do you have siblings, Mr. Patel?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two little brothers. They’re… around Aaron’s age, actually.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Travis and I’s heads both swiveled in his direction. This was new, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, thought so.” Seung-Jae beamed. “You gushed over Asher like an older brother would.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took me a second to realize he was referring to the potato- er, the baby. So it was Aaron, Aidan, Alice, and Asher Kim. Huh, go figure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I caught sight of Camille and Ashley talking over by the front desk with Della and Audra. Ashley seemed noticeably more relaxed now. I noticed Audra taking her hands and treating her just as familiarly as the teenagers, despite Ashley probably being older than her. Ashley was actually smiling at her. I hadn’t seen her smile like that in… well, ever. Maybe Audra Darlington just had that effect on people. Thank god for that, too. I had a feeling she would balance out Camille Kim in a way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked over and expected Travis or Josh to be gazing over at her, too, but the two of them seemed perfectly content arguing (for whatever reason) who was going to win this season of Masterchef. So that left Seung-Jae. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alice told me you were her new mentor. How’s she doing?” He asked, the kind grin not so much as wavering an inch as he pushed his bangs away from his face, briefly revealing what looked to be subtle hearing aids in both of his ears. I almost burst into tears with how eternally patient yet inherently kind he sounded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s… good. Gets her work done.” Not like there’s anything for her to really do, anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seung-Jae’s eyes crinkled at the edges. “I’m glad. She can be a little… aggressive. You could even say she has more of an attitude than all the boys combined. But I’m happy you obviously haven’t had to see that part of her yet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh.” The way this gentle man talked about her made her seem like she was a demon. I thought about the only mental images I had of her, of her on the charter bus flipping pages of a magazine with Ashley Nakamura, of calmly filing her nails across from me in an empty meeting room, of her texting without even looking at her phone while she sits next to my desk. I certainly couldn’t imagine her upset, really. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a reason Andreas, Aidan, and Aaron know better than to pick a serious fight with her.” Seung-Jae elaborated plainly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jesus Christ, if I pissed off Alice Kim, would she kill me or something? “Um, why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seung-Jae casually waved it off as Camille made her way over. “Just stay on her good side and you won’t have to find out.” When his wife was close enough, his eyes got brighter, somehow. “Ready to go,</span>
  <em>
    <span> yeobo</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Director Kim’s expression became a little less stony for a second when she met eyes with Seung-Jae. “Yes, Audra says she will be answering any lingering questions for me from now on. Where’s Asher?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With the kids. Ah, there they are now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Across the lobby, Camille and I followed his gaze. I watched as Aidan, who, along with Alice, was now with Andreas and Aaron, lifted Asher up Lion-King style while the rest of the teenagers looked on. Subtly, I glanced over at Mrs. Kim, whose eyes now indicated she was immensely dead inside. She fixed that dead gaze back on me, very surprisingly. What was even more surprising were the words she said to me. “Anyways, Jackson Peters, was it? Thank you for taking care of Alice thus far. And Andreas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I blinked. “Oh. Uh, you’re welcome. It was no problem, really.” Although the Andreas thing… I didn’t think “taking care of” was the right phrase for whatever was happening there. I coughed and stared down at the floor, trying desperately not to think about it too hard. “They’re… bright kids.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I agree. I just wish Andreas applied himself more.” Mrs. Kim said. In the corner of my eye, Seung-Jae was signaling their kids and Andreas to come over. “Andreas should be studying at one of the top universities in the world right now.” She looked up at me. “You should tell him that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman nodded curtly before looking at the teenagers and nodding to them as well. “Everyone ready to go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All three of the triple A’s gave me a variation of the word “yes.” The tension between them and their mother seemed considerably lessened after (I assume) Aaron told his siblings their punishment himself. Plus, they were all too busy playing with Asher to even really mind. “Where are you guys going?” Josh asked as he and Travis rejoined the circle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going out to dinner to celebrate Camille’s move.” Seung-Jae answered softly- though everything he said, he seemed to say softly. “Would anyone else like to come? We’re heading to </span>
  <em>
    <span>De Luca’s Kitchen and Lounge</span>
  </em>
  <span> downtown.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite not knowing these people too well, I was almost inclined to accept the offer, just because of the welcoming way he offered. “Sorry, I have work to do.” Josh shrugged. “And I know Travis and Jackson do, too. But thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at us for approval. We reluctantly agreed with him, knowing he was right. Andreas agreed, too. “Sorry, guys. But SJ, invite me over next time you make your famous asparagus soufflé, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seung-Jae smiled wider, if possible. “You’re welcome in our home any time, Andreas.” The rest of the Kims voiced their enthusiastic agreement. It made my heart feel… lighter, in a way. Knowing he still had someone when Augustus Adair wasn’t around. Then it felt heavier again. But why, I wasn’t sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Kim family said their brief goodbyes. Even Asher gave a tiny wave at Josh. While I watched the six of them leave Abernathy, I felt something in my chest tinge again. There was something about how Camille Kim talked in a hushed voice to Seung Jae as their baby babbled against her shoulder. How the three teenagers poked fun at each other in boisterous voices. I saw Alice pinch Asher’s cheek in passing while Aidan and Aaron dodged each other’s play-punches. I couldn’t stop looking. There was an indescribable feeling of longing when I saw them together like this. When I tore my eyes away to glance at Andreas, he had a similar look in his eye. But the second he met my gaze, he simply walked off. Slowly, Travis and Josh made their ways towards their respective departments, too. At the front desk, Della had gone off somewhere, but Ashley still seemed to be happily conversing with Audra Darlington. I considered going off to my office, to put everything back to the way it should be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That is… until I felt another pair of eyes on me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the glass doors of Abernathy Labs, Camille Kim was staring back at me over her shoulder. Her gaze didn’t waver. She didn’t even seem to think about looking away. Her black pupils bore into me as if she could see me. As in, really see me. She was watching me like a predator eyes down their prey seconds before they pounced. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If it does happen to be her who takes power around here, she’ll be watchin’ all of you like a hawk, per Adair’s orders.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whether she was friend or foe was to be determined.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Little did Jackson know, that night, Andreas Adair stood on the wooden dock near the edge of the lake under the cliff upon which his house stood. He’d stare into the pitch black abyss of water below him, and without a bit of ceremonious gesture, dive in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The darkness, the fluidity, the freedom, and cold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The familiarity of it all enveloped him like the hug of a mother welcoming her son home. He eventually surfaced, only taking a sharp breath before taking steady, broad strokes towards the center of the body of water as his legs kicked from behind him in a practiced motion. He listened to the splash of the freezing liquid sloshing around him as he went, the empty night sky above him the only one keeping watch as he relished in the loneliness of it all. Andreas found the center before long- he’d done this at least a dozen times, and was a proficient swimmer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let himself flip over onto his back and simply float in the center of the lake. Andreas stared up at the crescent moon above him for a moment. Before releasing all the breath of his body and slowly letting himself sink more and more into that black, frigid emptiness. He felt himself descend more and more, his eyes closed as he let the hint of panic rise and fall in his chest before extinguishing completely into an undeniably sterile bliss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sounds of the night were completely gone, replaced with a solitary silence. It was like for a brief stop in time, he was the only being in the world, suspended in an unforgiving nothingness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His throat begged to take in another breath of air, but as always, he ignored the feeling. He let his body descend deeper until it fell into a standstill between the surface and the bottom of the lake. He stayed there for as long as he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Six minutes and fifty one seconds is how long it took. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas Adair waited for a moment, up until the very last second the burn in his lungs and the numbing of the tips of his fingers was too much to bear anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let the fiery adrenaline, the innate human instinct to live, to <em>breathe</em>, overtake his body completely as it moved on its own, desperately moving to kick itself to the surface once more. He had never been so desperate to live except in those moments. Yet he lived for those few seconds nonetheless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andreas surfaced, immediately taking a deep, shuddering breath as life seemed to erupt all around him, all at once again. He was not under the water, where all was silent and desolate. The cricket chirping near the edge of the lake. The distant coo of the owls in the woods. The sound of his breathing, how his chest fell up and down rapidly. Desperate, quick breaths turned into hysteric, strident laughing. The harsh sound rang through the night. Andreas laughed. He laughed and kept laughing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of it- the submersion, the noises of the world around him, the shaking of his shoulders- it all served as a reminder that he was still alive. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hc: Travis, Josh, and Jackson share one braincell and it goes to Josh 99% of the time</p><p>a reader asked me a question via email and i figured i should probably address it early on- no, i didn’t intend for so many of the characters to have names starting with “a” (Ashley, Augustus, Audra, etc.) and no it doesn’t mean anything or connect them lol i didn’t even notice ashley and asher’s names were so similar until i was writing this chapter<br/>Ofc the adairs were meant to have “a” names and so were the triple a’s + asher (in that sense, andreas is an honorary triple a bc his initials are AAA) but otherwise maybe i just like names that start with j and a hmmm (sorry travis and ethan)<br/>What was on purpose, however, were all the kim kids having five letters in their name- which as far as i can tell isn’t symbolic or anything, camille and i just like consistency<br/>ps - unfortunately, this chapter didn't quite turn out how i wanted, so edits may be coming soon </p><p>also: new addition! very occasionally, there will be third person narratives after a double line break (at the end of any chapter where it's deemed relevant).</p><p>love y'all! stay safe :)</p><p>Schedule:<br/>Ch. 30 - May 29th<br/>Ch. 31 - not yet written, TBD</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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